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[filiusenox]

Is Filenox still alive? and is he the king of the Empire?

[Katsuun]

A cameo is planned, but they wont appear in a major way, sorry.

[Jervous]

Katsuun! I trade you an explanation for a cameo in your stories!

To load saved asciidraw files, drag them onto the AsciiDraw exe. That should load them up.

[Keita]

If ^that^ doesn't work then right click, open with... then click choose program and then to were ACSII draw is

[filiusenox]

Whos power has night in it?

[scuba]

i have no idea how to fix the drawing thingy.. never used it before :s

[Katsuun]

Katsuun! I trade you an explanation for a cameo in your stories!

To load saved asciidraw files, drag them onto the AsciiDraw exe. That should load them up.

It works! IT WORKS!!!!

Yes you can have a cameo. A full time character if you want. Heck, I'll even give you a magical character if you so wish.

[Katsuun]

Whos power has night in it?

What do you mean by this?

[filiusenox]

Whos domain has night in it?
Who has control of night?

[Katsuun]

I got additional updates in this week because of Veteran's Day, but expect the pace to slow down to one or twice a week from now on.




Armok slowly got to his feet, the dried blood on the floor around his throne and on his person evaporating into a fine, reddish mist and dissipating as he did so. There he silently stood, contemplating the pointing Iotazeta across from him, a stony, silent stare that met the elf's equally stoic gaze. Copperblaze looked from one, to the other, as they stood affixed to the spot as if trees rooted to the ground of the throne room. Armok and Iotazeta simply stood there, regarding each other silently as Iotazeta's hand slowly dropped to her side. Iotazeta repeated herself. Armok simply stared. He seemed to be contemplating a response, his tail slowly dragging itself around on the air as he continued to regard the elven witch with no discernible emotion. Iotazeta and Copperblaze exchanged quick glances, and both were on the verge of leaving, until the Kobold finally spoke.

"Of course." He uttered in a monotone. "A standard game to be played with pieces on the material plane, correct?" Taken aback by the sudden departure from silence, the two witches regarding him merely nodded. Iotazeta took a moment to compose herself, smoothing out her dress, adjusting her hat with minute gestures, before taking a breath and speaking.

"A game between myself and you, Armok, Warlock of Blood." She began, carefully stating Armok's title as was custom amongst the powerful magical beings of the multiverse. "Copperblaze shall then challenge the winner, being the strongest of us present." She nodded at Copperblaze, who returned the gesture with a grimance. As usual, it seemed that Iotazeta had orchestrated the event for her own pleasure more than their mutual enjoyment, but Copperblaze expected nothing less from her childish, if cunning, rival. Returning her gaze to Armok, she continued, "The game shall be held on the Material Plane, and shall be a contest that involves us, directly or otherwise." She paused, let the information settle, then concluded by asking Armok, "Do you accept these terms, Armok, Warlock of Blood?"

Armok turned to Copperblaze, and pointed at her. "Copperblaze, we will need a witness for the contract of our competition." Witches and Warlocks were tricky creatures, well versed in the Universal legal languages and the art of bypassing and weaving around them. Thus, it was usually acceptable to call upon a third-part witness to observe all rules and interpret them as a neutral bystander, to prevent loopholes from being exploited by the competitors due to differing interpretations of a given agreement. "Since you are participating in this round of games, perhaps you can summon a minion to act as an interpreter for us?." Minions were bound to certain universal rules, one of them being that unless their master was directly threatened, they had to be neutral parties in all proceedings they observed, thus making them ideal witnesses. Copperblaze nodded her head curtly in agreement, then clicked her fingers together and snapped. As the crisp sound of the snap resounded about the throne room, flashes of blue light came into being.



The flares of light expanded until they filled a good portion of the room, blinding the three beings present with their brilliance. One by one, the clouds dissipated until they revealed their contents, four armor-clad dwarves standing in the midst of the blue haze. The armor they wore was a shade of black, polished to the point where it looked as if forged only yesterday, except for a worn portion that appeared bluish in color. Each had unique designs displayed on their armor, and the most elaborate was worn by a female dwarf who looked as if she had seen many battles in her time, in life and in service to the magical beings. The female dwarf with the elaborate armor, who seemed to be the leader, turned to Copperblaze and bowed.

"The Lost Message at your service, madame Copperblaze."



The rest of the group turned to Copperblaze and bowed in unison, smooth and regulated gestures that made them seem like clocks, rigid and coldly efficient. Copperblaze raised her left hand, the symbol for them to relax, and they settled into a standing position. The violet-haired dwarf examined her minions as one would a pet who they didn't particularly care for, and the four dwarves standing began to tremble and sweat under her scrutiny. All knew that their very existence had been given to them, and could be easily taken, by the Witch of Ending. Armok and Iotazeta watched the scene with indifference, idly glancing around as Copperblaze began issuing her orders. "You are to listen to the statements that my counterparts give," she said in a practiced monotone as she indicated Armok and Iotazeta with jerks of her head. "Listen to them as a neutral party, commit their words to memory, and be prepared to relinquish this information to me upon all subsequent summonings, until I expressly give you permission to cease doing so."

"Yes madame Copperblaze, we shall do so with all of our ability!" Browynn, as the leader was known, snapped to attention as she shouted out her affirmative in a bark. Copperblaze nodded, then weakly flourished a hand, indicating to Armok that he could continue. Armok took his seat as he had been standing for the preceding events, then adjusted his positioning to align him directly with Iotazeta, who still sat on her obsidian chair, glancing around the room and at her counterparts. The Kobold cleared it's throat, a rough noise that rang harsh on the ears of all present, before beginning his exposition.

His letters began to shimmer faintly in the air with an inflection of his power, glaring faintly red in the air around him as he spoke, only to evaporate and be replaced by his next words. "From this point, until the culmination of this game, all of our evidence and conclusions shall be stated in this styling. All statements that pertain to the case must be proved in the aforementioned style, and all rebuttals to any given statements likewise. Proof is something that we can observe, or logically infer, though the opponent is allowed refute the proof with logic or observations of his or her own." He paused and waited for Iotazeta, who nodded in response. The Lost Message moved their lips in unison, apparently trying to commit the exact wording to memory, though looking vaguely unprofessional in the process. "I shall allow you, Iotazeta, to state the terms of the game," Armok concluded, his monotone having held thought the explanation. The members of Lost Message took the time to discuss the interpretation amongst themselves, and the magical beings held their tongues for the furniture to finish.

Finally, they broke the impromptu huddle they had formed and nodded to Iotazeta, who almost immediately spoke, in an exited rush. "The game shall be played with simple rules. The combatants shall each pick a piece upon the given game board, which shall represent their interests and be directly controllable by the being who the piece represents. None of the combatants shall know what characters on the board are each others pieces. That is the object game, to ascertain the identity of the others piece and directly slay them. The killing must be direct, planned by the piece of the opponent, to count as victory. Indirect manipulation of events on the board is allowed, as long as the actual killing is directly planned or caused by the opponent's piece." "Do you accept these terms?" Iotazeta finished, slowed as she mastered her excitement and turned to address Armok. He nodded, his tail bobbing slightly with the motion. The Lost Message had already finished, and nodded in unison to Iotazeta, who smiled slightly as acknowledgment.

"These terms are accepted by all parties, Armok, Warlock of Blood, Iotazeta, Witch of the Perpetual, and myself, Witch of the Ending. These terms have been interpreted by a neutral party, The Lost Message, furniture of Copperblaze." Copperblaze muttered, then snapped , dismissing her own minions to their residences on her own demipane. As they went, a new group appeared, without the flash of power that signified materialization, implying that they had been lurking somewhere on Armok's plane the whole time. They were suits of armor without inhabitants, dark in color, but with symbols crudely splattered across their breasts. The symbols were incomprehensible to mortals, but all present knew the meaning of the symbols.



"The Burning Halo, infamous for the cruel and truly horrid fate they inflict upon mortals," Iotazeta said with more than a hint of admiration tinging her voice. "Excellent acquisition Armok!" She beamed at Armok, who shriveled her look and mood with a cold stare. Armok nodded at the armor, who touched the blood pool in the room. From it, an image, seemingly frozen in time, emerged and interposed itself into the air. It showed a mountainside, a group of dwarves in a caravan, all seemingly miserable. Copperblaze and Iotazeta scutinized the image, and Armok stood, a smile faint on his snout.

"Ladies... the game board..."




TIPS

Armok, Warlock of Blood

A magical being, surpassed in power by none by Iotazeta and Copperblaze

One of the more well known to the mortals of the Material Plane

Perhaps it is because their veins run with the viscous material that is Armok's power

Feared by his peers, in a way, even by his two superiors, for his shadowy motives in life.

The dark blood that flows in the veins of all.


Ending Theme-La Divina Tragedia

NEXT EPISODE:
Electron Cloud Model


Ok, HINT TIME. In this episode, there are two important hints for the "metagame", that is, the intellectual game that exists between the witches and does not involve the mortals in any way. There are also a few false hints, just to keep it from being easy. In the future, pay attention to TIPS, because I will slide some of the biggest hints in there. (Not now, these are just flavor TIPS).

Thanks to all reading so far!

[MODIFY]: Called Copperblaze Bernkastel... techincally correct, but it gives away to much to anyone who knows Umineko well...

[Keita]

That was awesome stuff Katsuun. I hope you don't mind me glossing over the tips as I don't want to possibly work out the story plots before they begin.

[Katsuun]

Whos domain has night in it?
Who has control of night?

Nobody that I've made.

[Katsuun]

Working on an Umineko-style portrait for Iotazeta to use as my "OP" Picture. I suck as a drawer, but I think it will be ready in time for the next episode. All cameos I was asked for will occur in this episode.


Weeks of travel through the harsh winter climes of the mountains wore heavily on the small caravan of dwarves as they solemnly trudged through the snow encrusted slopes, each silent as he thought his own thoughts, mindless of the frost that grew on their beards or clothes. The horses pulled the wagon along, it's steady creaks and the occasional sharp bark of the dog being the only sounds that accompanied them on this brutal journey to their forced homes. Forced for the leader anyways; while Ascubis and Sarpedon and the four nameless peasants they had recruited were willing, perhaps they were rethinking their choices as they blindly trudged though the biting snow, seeking their destination with little anticipation.

When the snow drifts began to dissipate and the band of dwarves finally able to feel their extremities again, they knew that they were coming close to their final stop, their appointed homes for as long as they would draw breath, perhaps not long, if their current experience was anything to go by. The warm sun would mockingly beat down on them as they continued their silent march to their fates, passing through plains, forests alike to find the culmination of their miserable journey. Even here, in the warmth of the sun did they speak little, their mouths remaining shut and obscured by their beards, which would sweat with the heat of the sun and only further discomfort the dwarves. The density of trees grew thicker, the land lusher and more verdant, and the dwarves would ultimately arrive at the site the map marked as Painspikes. A gentle, rolling hill stretched out before them, trees dotted the landscape as far as the eyes could see. The land looked neat and trimmed, almost as if artificially done so. And as the dwarves continued to appraise the land that they now held, they knew why.

In the center of the landscape, an impossibly tall tree, trunk suspiciously smoothed down and polished to shimmer in the light of the sun, stood at the center of the forest. It dominated the landscape, it's sheer size making it stand stark to the rest of the rest of the serene landscape, a beacon that drew all eyes to itself. Even the dwarves, masters of all building, had no choice but to marvel at the sheer size and glory of the tree that unfolded before them, impressively catching the light of the trees through it's lush foliage. And yet, the tree seemed to be just that. A building, something that was of artifical, versus natural creation. The dwarves fell in line, scrutinizing the wonder as their wagon finally screeched to a stop... and at last, they knew the truth as the detected the scents, heard the shouts, laughter.

Elves.



Lacking the means to do anything else, they began to disassemble the wagon and pull out the objects they had crammed into it, including the dog which appeared to have nearly been crushed by a barrel, faintly whimpering as it was dragged out into the sunlight. Their rations were meager, food old and stale, tools blunt and rusted. Ascubis suggested butchering the horses, who would have been useless anyways, and his new, pathetic hammer got it's first usage as it cracked open the skulls of the two equines. They cut up the corpses into portions which the wrapped in leaves and haphazardly stored in the less cramped barrels. Leaving the corpses in in a pile to rot, they rapidly pulled out what remained of their supplies, which considering the amount that they had been able to afford, amounted to little. Leaving the rations, arms, and still cowering dog in place, they started up a campfire and began to discuss their plan of action over a few hearty drinks and some of the choice cuts of their former mounts.



As one of their number started cutting down trees at the command of their leader with their one axe, another offered, "Best we just slaughter the elves and get it over with." His proposition was met with a round of cheers and a toast or two, which Sarpedon patiently waited out, standing stock still outside of the campfire circle, before turning and voicing his argument.

"A death wish if there was ever one." He silently eyed all of the dwarves huddled around the campfire, his taciturn gaze silencing their laughter and leaving them only to stare back. He nodded curtly at their expedition leader before continuing. "We have neither the manpower nor the weaponry to challenge the Elves yet." As Ascubis opened his mouth to argue, the cold marksdwarf cut in before he could speak, "Be it that the elves are completely useless and pathetic, that does not change the fact that they have forces that we can't yet deal with." He waited to see if anyone would challenge him. Sensing nothing, he turned, his advice given, back to scrutinizing the great tree once more.

Ascubis stood and made his own proposition. "It pains me to say it, but I unfortunately must agree with my colleague on this matter. We have not the ability to fight on even terms with the elven peoples yet." A few groans from the assembled peasants and a chorus of jeers directed at the elves tree. Ascubis nodded slightly, then continued, "I propose that we get underground and wait for the fall forces that the Mountainhomes are to send to evaluate our progress. With their help, we should be able to clear this land of the scum of the elves and claim it for our own!" A rousing cheer that flared up through the dwarves, Ascubis himself included, and a frenzy of drinking that followed. Ascubis called to Sarpedon, who seemed to be carefully analyzing the foliage of the trees for something.

"Yes... I suppose I will..." He turned his back to the tree and was warmly greeted by Ascubis with a tankard and a rousing chorus of Dwarven folksongs and battle cries.



"Pah... damn dwarves. Do they take us for total fools?" From a distance, two elven rangers spied on the dwarves through the vaguely translucent foliage, the sunlight streaming through with enough intensity to allow the elves a peek at all occurrences outside, but not vice versa. The elves could safely scrutinize the dwarves with no indication of their presence. "If our bows only had more range..." The ranger, Filuse, wistfully muttered.

"Patience Filuse. The dwarves will get their comeuppance for settling on and desecrating our lands." His counterpart, Jervous, muttered back. They brushed aside some of the heavier leaves to get a better view of the intruders, and found to their disgust that they had already begun lumber operations on their lands, a lone dwarf furiosuly hacking away at one of the trees before their very eyes. "We must bring this issue to Druidess Elyise at once. With her power, those rock heads down there will stand little chance of survival." Filuse nodded at Jervous, and they turned from their quarry, who had already been obscured by the smoke of their campfire that draped over their site like a thick blanket, and were beginning for the stairwell when Filuse suddenly halted the pair of them.

"I doubt the rest of our village knows... it is only from this vantage point that they are clearly visible. Should we alert them?" Jervous shook his head. A panic would only make their job harder. Besides, no one they knew alive could defeat Elyise. A conflict was fated between the two... and much sooner that the dwarves could have possibly expected...


TIPS:

A heart of gold shall only sink.

A heart of silver as well.

Cast these precious metals from your soul, lest it sink into the fiery abyss.

Trust only a heart of iron, rigid and firm in it's convictions.

It too may sink, but the fires of hell shall not crush it.

-Ancient Dwarven Proverb.


Nothing interesting or important yet, but I promise it will get more interesting really soon.

[Keita]

I like my characture, ON WITH THE JOURNALS!

From the journal of Sarpedon
After days of inhospetable cold we end up in a swelteringly hot woodland inhabitied with elves. While the rest are going to sit it out intill our forces grow, I'm a little on edge. I've fought Elvesmany times and little gets past them in there domain, it's quiet possible that they might know we're here already. I wouldn't put it passed those pointy pricks.

Well after getting drunk a while I stagered over to the cart and managed a few hours sleep before being wocken up by nightmares of past ordieals with Elves...

...Oh Gilmoreth, why did you have to take that arrow?

[filiusenox]

...
Elves?

I have shamed my latin name!

((good story so far))