MrSunder

What measure is strength? On cold sands, through icy fingers does it slip; What measure is the mind? When the crush of dim reality recoils, And madness, ever kinder, rears its knotted head; What measure is the soul? For in loneliness do we dwell, With our mirrored dreams, And monsters, Weeping in the dark.

The Death of Benjamin Skyshroud On the great plane to the north and west of the Citadel, on ground hallowed by the blood of Aerthain in the war against the Yvalkyn sorceress Catherine Sjormalla, a new war was coming to an end. This new threat had bubbled up, seemingly from the earth itself. With Yvalhir to the north still in disarray from the loss of their leader, and the southern kingdoms still weakened from her wild assault there had been little resistance- until now. Now three mighty armies stood at cross purposes, the enchanters, beasts, and rangers of Eiradhe lead by Ingen Ciar; and the mages, soldiers, and knights of Aerethain lead by

[b]Konigsheim, Yvalhir[/b] "You say that the intruder has made it past the perimeter guard?" Countess Yngvarrsen walked in a quick locked step with the High Sorceress of Yvalhir through the halls of Konigsheim Keep.  Behind them in total silence strode the High Sorceress' right hand, a young- by elf standards –sorceress of considerable skill. "Yes." Was the Sorceress' deft reply. "It is a caster then, surely- some evasive spell to avoid the archers… there was a full garrison on the outer wall." The Countess pressed. "Yes, and no." the Sorceress answered with some anxiety, "Apparently, she stood in the court yard and allowed the

[i]Fight me?  He wants to fight me…[/i] The earth moved at Caracas' command, sand from the battered square swept up with the flow of his hands, the grace of a breeze with the force of a land slide.  The grains crash upon a wall of flame, crystalize instantly into glimmering glass, and shatter against the cool air. [i]She casts without speaking, reflexively with but a thought.  She casts without summoning her Thrall.  Or is it already summoned?  Is it ever not summoned…it's too hard to tell through the Nafisah.  There auras are too close, like they're the same being.  I may as well be fighting the thrall itself.[/i] The witch does

On the far side of the island, across the central hill from the guarded marble causeways of Tholos, on the edge of marsh Korr worked.  He had been slaving for weeks at undoing the bindings around the mysterious woman.  She floated a few inches above the earth, suspended by ancient magic, as though repelled by the world itself.  Of average height, her long raven hair hovering in the ether around her porcelain face gave her the appearance of an inverted halo.  Her clothing was not quite as black as her hair- a noble's robes fastened down with buckles and belts.  A gown cut and trimmed for battle.  Eyes behind lids behind glasses. Ever since he

At desks In front of screens On beds And on feet Watching Listening to; people silence music wailing. Adrift in endless days, with a z.

Benjamin Skyshroud, Ingen Ciar, Somnos Lunarious Vs. Catherine Sjornmala Cereen. The forgotten city at the heart of Vaengard. Long since destroyed, but misplaced by time. The ruins of marble buildings still stand. The sun is high, but the sky is strangely dark as though a storm may crash through the serenity at any moment. Here in this place, three worlds stand against one. The Conqueror, the Paladin, and the Teacher are united against a common enemy. "I was wrong," the conqueror says, the light wind causing his imperial vest to below behind him with the sound of wings, "you're too dangerous to use as a tool." "This ends now." The paladin

Iradia Vs. Breeg Waves crashed against a storm swept coast. Sand battered rocks glistened in the spray of the sea as great jungle trees swayed and danced in the background. The windswepth woman listened to her kithsman rage, her heart full of pity and anger. He stood with his back to the sea, the water rushing around him. Mismatched eyes met across a sprinter's gap, so close in the physical, so far away in belief. "The islands are blind to the mechanations of the world," his voice soared with the waves, "the path of beauty has been mutilated beyond all recognition by the gods themselves. Open your eye, those with the power to shape this wor

Confrontation They gathered on the field of Golgotha, in the north of Isola. The forces of Aerathain bolstered by the united tribes of Yvalhir, under the command of Archmagus Benjamin Skyshroud join forces with the rebels of Eiradhe, beastkin and elves lead by the hunt's master, Ingen Ciar. Against them, covering the sweeping plains in a blanket of soldiers and mages, is the grand army of Emperor Lunarious. In its ranks are hundreds of thousands from all across Vaengard. Men and women, casters and beasts, all bent to the will of the emperor. Vultures circle overhead, expectant of the feast to come. At the head of their forces stand the two g