"Alistair J. R. Young" wrote:
> On Tue, 4 Jul 2000 07:59:59 -0500, in message <MPG.13cb9bcde41c284b9899cb@news.umich.edu>,
> Jeff Huo <jeff@spundreamst.net.nospam> praised Shub-Internet thus:
> > In article <c1.2b8.2WdvtG$2hd@delia.arkane-systems.net>, avatar-
> > usenet@arkane.demon.co.uk says...
> >> On Tue, 27 Jun 2000 16:48:51 GMT, in message <39589663.9459749@news.demon.co.uk>,
> >> Justine Rogers <justine@area88.demon.co.uk> praised Shub-Internet thus:
>
> >> > "Astarial? Never heard of him."
> >>
> >> "That would be me, and" - he looks at Lady May - "it wasn't. Although"
> >> - he returns his attention to Maia - "I don't believe we've met, in
> >> any case. Astarial Cyprium en'Claves Praelethar i'Aelies e'Cirith
> >> Leir, et cetera, at your service."
>
> > From just behind Frédéric, Turnberry's eyebrows perk and his
> > green eyes light up with excitement at overhearing the
> > introduction. You can tell he's debating with himself whether to
> > move foward to introduce himself, vs. not wanting to interrupt.
>
> "I do not believe that we have met, good sir?"
Turnberry looks very, very carefully at Astarial. His free hand
goes to one of his many pockets, grabs something. Turnberry
seems to consider something for a moment; somehow finding
reassurance in whatever he has grabbed, he steps forward, a
very serious expression on his face, presenting himself formally to Alistair,
his physical gestures suggesting familiarity with
the ettiquite of Court. ["Would it at all make sense to you if I said,
no, yes, and you tell me? "]
["Turnberry Knick-nock, of the Kingdom of Pacifica,
formerly servant to the Court of the Kingdom of Grass, and sworn
protector to the Lady of Toledo."] Turnberry does a formal bow. ["I do not believe
I have ever met you in person in this life, my Lord;
I barely know who you are and little of your history,
your character and principles, nay, even your race."]
["But three things overcome that -- first, I have distinct
rememberance of you from previous lifetimes --perhaps in
Arcadia, perhaps on the mortal Earth, perhaps in realms
and dimentions and alternate realities beyond count-- the
Curse of the Mists prevent me from detailing in any way
how or where we might know each other. I know only
the fact that I do."]
["The second is by a young woman whom I met on service
during my mortal medical training in Chicago, a few months
before I left for Pacifica. She had been found in a city park;
she remembered little when she was brought to New
Northwestern Memorial; no records existed
anywhere in the city --or nationwide-- of who she was; it
was almost like parties unknown had dropped her
completely out of the sky. She was sad, and lonely, and
needed someone with whom to talk, and had enough
wonder and innocence to see me in my fae mien, even
in mortal reality."] Turnberry smiles at the memory.
[" 'Doggy!' she exclaimed happily the first time I came
into her room; the rest of the staff chalked it up to
delusion or insanity; I and she knew better."]
["She was the most innocent, pure and beautiful
woman I have ever met in this lifetime, and the most
hopeful Dreamer; just by being in the same room
as her I could feel my own soul and Glamour being
restored. I used all of my mortal and fae arts to try
to help her remember who she was, to no avail..."]
Turnberry was wistful in recalling, but now he turns
serious, like he was about to reveal a matter of
awesome import. Magically, his voice-box reflects
in it's tone of voice the change in mood. ["To no
avail, till one night. She had paged me through
the hosptial network. I wasn't on call that night,
but I was there in a blink of an eye. When I arrived,
she was already packing her things with a determined
air, certainly ready to go. She asked me to fetch her
her sachel from hospital security --which I did,
and then bade me shut the door and sit on the bed
to listen, like what I was about to be told was the
most important thing in all creation."]
["She took my hand, closed her eyes, and then there
was a sudden flash. When the light cleared, we were
no longer in her room but on the roof of the
Hospital, the lights of Chicago ablaze around us.
Till that moment I had no inkling that she could
wield magic; in fact, to that moment I knew very
little --and still know very little-- of who she was.
Gone was the tentative young lady that had
been struggling with trying to remember who she
was and what she was meant to be doing; in
her place was the same unearthly innocence
and beauty allied with a steel determination.
She spoke with both command and pleading.
She bade me, upon my honor as a Knight
of the Seelie Court, to undertake for her a quest,
to undertake for her The Oath of the Long Road,
the greatest and fiercest of the Oaths that are
sworn among the Kithain. I have no idea to this day
how she could have known of it, for I do not believe
--I honestly do not know-- she was fae herself;
I have no idea why she asked me, of all people,
to undertake it. But for her, for this beautiful
Dreamer, I could not refuse."]
["There were no witnesses save the stars above,
noone to see our blood mingle as we drew
blade across our palms and clasped in the greatest
of Oaths. But the entire Dreaming heard as she
made me swear to complete her Quest, or lose my
honor, that I would complete her Quest, or lay
down my sword, that I would complete her
Quest, or Dream no more. She and the sky were
my witnesses, so mote it be."]
["She bade me three things; to travel the Dreaming,
among it's Trods till I came to a pub called
the Wolves Glen; that when I should arrive
there, that I find Astarial of the Most Noble House
of Cyprium, Prince of Alatia, the Ever-Burning
Flame; and that when I do, I should give him this,"]
producing a small ring-box of green slate-ish like
material, that glows now with an unearthly power
that drowns out all the lights in the bar in it's awesome
brightness, yet is not too intense to stare into,
["and a message."]
["Then she smiled --in a way, just for me,
that I will remember until the day I die, gave me
a wink, grabbed her sachel and ran off towards the
corner of the roof. Halfway between where we
were and the edge, she took a little hop, a bright
gateway --that's best as I can describe it-- opened
up in midair, she leaped through it and was gone."]
(OOC: I'll e-mail you about what's in the box.
Turnberry himself has utterly no clue.)
Turnberry kneels with great gravity, presenting
the box to Astarial with one hand, even as he
types with the other. ["To this day, I know nothing
more of this Lady; I know not her story, from
whence she came or where she went, who she was
or what she means to you. I know only of the
quest and trust she placed in me, and of her name.
For her I have dared the Trods of the Dreaming,
questing on after this pub and your Lordship,
guided only by her command; to seek among
the silver paths the road straight and true;
to travel past the second star to the right and
straight on 'till morning, till I find the Pub of
the Wolves Glen. Many a night I traveled,
her box in hand, it glowing brighter and warmer as I
traveled closer, dimmer as I went away, and by
such means did I travel blindly through the
dangers of the Dreaming till I came here. And
more fiercely yet did it glow when I found you,
allowing me to be sure of finding someone
I have never met."]
A great nimbus of glowing light now surrounds Turnberry.
It is the Dreaming itself, recognizing and honoring
the fullfillment of the greatest of Oaths that the
Kithain might swear. Turnberry speaks one last
time as Astarial takes the box from his hand,
Turnberry's voice choking with emotion.
["And thus, my Lord, here is the Lady's gift
to you, and her message: 'Remember that
there is no place in Earth, Heaven or Hell,
no distance of space or time, no barriers of
paradox or Banality, Tempest or Gauntlet,
life or death itself, that Love Eternal cannot
one day cross.'"]
["My Quest is at an end. I have fulfilled
my vows, my Lady,"] he seems to speak to the
air, ["and honored your word. Wherever you are
now, may you be at peace, Chloe."]
>
> - Astarial
-Turnberry
|
