“I--” he began. He stood for a moment longer, searching for words. “I am as astounded as you,” he said finally. “Lord Roan, at first well and whole, then chained as a prisoner and – and defanged.”

Phalomir turned to ShaRhylla, his face a mirror of his confusion.

“The first image of Roan,” he said, “it was as we knew him. Strong, defiant… but there was something not right, did you see? It was blurred, yes, and somehow – watery. But the symbol of the Warriors, it was not. It was not there! But in the second image, it was.”

He shook his head and rubbed his hand over his face. He looked up at the ceiling and tried to remember, a difficult task as he worked also to shake himself back to reality.

“Was it there?” he asked himself. “Was it? I don’t recall, it happened so quickly and I had the limited vision of Panthar’s human body at that time. I don’t recall it, but I was not whole. It may not have been there, the mark may not have been there when I-- ”

He stopped, and looked sharply down at ShaRhylla.

“Do you recall?” he asked quickly. “Was the mark of the Warriors upon Roan when you saw him alive? Was the mark alive?”

--------------------

That broke the spell, and allowed the urgency voiced in Phalomir's words to penetrate the wall of anger ShaRhylla had erected. Swallowing, she loosened her stance a bit, then closed her eyes and tried to remember. Memories wouldn't come; that is to say, not truthful ones. For it is through a forgiving pane we view those lost to us; it suddenly dawned upon ShaRhylla that the images she was beckoning from the far reaches of her mind might not be ones that accurately portrayed her father, but..

Perhaps portrayed him as she wished to portray him.

She peeped an eye open, and glanced up at Phalomir. The look she received in turn quenched the final fires of anger; to the depth of her soul she knew all pretense must be dropped, and that she had to give his quety an honest, solid answer. The "why" of it all eluded her, but that for the moment was of less importance.

So she closed her eyes again and brought forth the All, striving to see that which she thought she would never, ever forget...

Her eyes flew open, and once more found Phalomir's own.

"I-- I don't understand," she whispered under her breath, more to herself than to him. "I-- "

She took in a breath, and hugged the face-tendril more closely to her body.

"No," she finally said, her voice soft and low and utterly disbelieving.

"It was not there. Father did not have the Mark of the Warrior Clan upon him.

"But how could he not?"

--------------------

“Because he was not Dark Lord,” he said, slowly. “That is what the vision is telling us, Roan, in his prime, but not Dark Lord. Then Roan, broken and imprisoned, the real Dark Lord.”

He turned to face ShaRhylla.

“If this vision is true,” he said, “Then Roan lives, and he is still Dark Lord. And whoever has shown us this vision knows we must find him – we will discover who is behind this treachery, and who masqueraded as Roan. At least THAT foe will not concern us – but it makes sense now, why the Lordship of the Warriors did not fall to me when I – when the imposter was killed. Because he was an imposter. This must be true, ShaRhylla!”

--------------------

"But... but..." she stammered, looking up at Phalomir, whose image suddenly seemed to be wavering as though seen though the depths of an ocean. She gulped fiercely, swiped angrily at her eyes, daring anybody to even see that tears were suddenly leaking from them.

"Who is my Father?"

--------------------

Her looked at her form, a perfect hybrid of human and Sith… but was she Sith? What was this new mystery that unfolded before them, and why were they shown this image?

That is the question which must be answered. But even if the real Lord Roan were somehow taken prisoner and defiled, replaced by a doppelganger, surely her mother would have known the difference. It is not likely that someone so close could be fooled thus. There are differences…

Yes, differences. And who was it that told him of the greatness of Lord Roan? That his demeanor had changed over the years? Was it the spirit of Lord Rean that had spoken these words to him?

Phalomir’s thoughts wandered, drifting back to his rivals. Recinis, who challenged Roan for the Lordship and then disappeared, leading to Phalomir’s own confrontation with Roan. It was Eye of R’lous that had saved Phalomir, but he had long puzzled over that fight. How had he managed to kill the powerful Roan in such a fashion?

And what of Recinis? He returned eventually, but he was different than even Phalomir remembered him. Not the confident Sith lord, but a more subdued and almost sheepish person of logic. Yet his actions in reality brought Phalomir and Jharmeen together, and then Recinis vanished once again. But there was a difference.

And then there was Aelvedaar. Phalomir nearly perished at the hands of this Sorceror, only to discover that the real Aelvedaar was held captive. And yes, he turned out to be very different from the monster Phalomir first thought him to be.

This was the same.

“ShaRhylla,” he said, speaking to the little girl which nearly trembled before him. “Your father is Roan, Dark Lord of the Warriors. I know this, you carry the blood of the Dark Lords within you, I can feel it. The thing which we saw, what walked among us, was not your father. It was a doppelganger, like the one that impersonated Lord Aelvedaar for so many years. But your father lives… your TRUE father. And we will find him, it is why the Temple has shown us this.”

Indeed. Phalomir felt it. The Armorers had a Lord once more, and it was now time bring the true lords together.

--------------------

"Be steady, my Companion." Allowing herself a final sniff, she unclenched a fist she hadn't been aware she was making, and started to lightly stroke the nearest face tendril. It in turned seemed to soften it's grip, but still held her bound in protective cords.

ShaRhylla then finally steadied herself, and only then did those sense organs of the beast begin to unwind. When they all finally had unraveled from her form, it was to reveal A ShaRhylla seemingly back to her old, vibrant self.

"We shall find my father, and release him from his torment," she stated as a simple matter of fact. For indeed it was nothing less than that; a mere reaching out with her talents and his location would surely be easily found. Another stretch, and He The Tormentor would likewise be discovered...

...and this time no one, no one, no Dark Lord, not even death itself would come between her and the Hunt which now lay so invitingly open before her.

--------------------

Phalomir stopped. His words echoed in the dark hallway long after his mouth stopped speaking them, his attention now focused inward. His head then turned to ShaRhylla, a puzzled look now overtaking him.

"You did not know," he said. "Your mother, and you. Neither of you, with all of your powers, the knowledge of the Sith at your fingertips, and neither of you knew that Roan was not truly Roan, just as none of us knew that Aelvedaar was likewise captured and replaced."

He sighed deeply and looked again into now silent chamber before them.

"There is a cloud, a shadow obscuring your vision from this. What else has been hidden from your eyes, I wonder?"

"Tell me, ShaRhylla, before we embark on this journey blindly, let us make sure the truth is known to you. It would do us no good to have falsehoods betray us in the heat of battle. Do you know how your father's doppleganger was killed?"

--------------------

Just a quick refresher.))

[ 11-16-2011 11:42 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

--------------------

That... was...

She frowned, now ignoring everything that surrounded her: the small sounds of Phalomir's clothing that lightly rustled with each breath he took; the strangely empty sounds of the ages that floated just beyond coherent hearing; the nearly imperceptible whine let forth from T'Karryn'd as, perhaps the only one among them to sense the impending arrival of Something Unspeakable, she once more tightened her grasp about her young Mistress and drew her against her lithe, muscular body.

All this went utterly ignored as ShaRhylla closed her eyes so as to concentrate harder. But it seemed the more she tried, the farther away that which she sought seemed to slip. Memories half shown now fractured into enticingly incorporeal bits, ghostly images of something which may or not have been, thoughts and feelings which in reality should be raging in her breast with the vitality of her very soul only seemed to dwindle, diminished with every passing tick of the clock, until nothing, absolutely nothing was left.

Shock forced her eyes open with the realization that, other than a lingering sensation of something approaching apathy toward Rykounagin, there were no memories within her but extremely short-term ones.

She somewhat remembered coming here, to this place. How exactly, escaped her. Vague memories of darkly shadowed trees, of fighting a beast, of a new heart and mind joining hers in bestial union bowed beneath a surge of elation, of utter joy, of an ecstasy so profound as to almost totally destroy any other sensation of memory pooled within her. But beyond that...

It took the greatest of efforts, one boosted by the assistance of her innate talents, to even part that curtain, but at length it complied... only to reveal soft, cottony darkness smiling behind it.

She forced herself to remain still as wonder now followed revelation.

What had happened to her memories? Why was it that something so easily retrieved was instead being doled out in crumbs too small to interest the hungriest of womprats?

She could not fathom this, had no answer to the quandary.

"I-- I do not know," she finally replied truthfully.

"Do you?"

[ 11-16-2011 12:19 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

--------------------

“I do,” he said. “And you deserve to know the truth.” His eyes wandered as his voice trailed, looking into the darkness.

Phalomir inhaled deeply, then turned his whole attention to ShaRhylla.

“It was so long ago, it seems. He was bent on destruction, having arranged a deadly showdown with Lord Recinis. At that time I did not understand who I was, or where I came from, and the only familiar thing I carried was an ancient relic, the Eye of R’Lous. I had no memories, I only wanted to search for clues, and I did my best to stay out of the way.”

“But Roan – or what I thought was Roan – was ill met in the underground hallways. He was anxious for the battle with Recinis, as if it were the culmination of some grand scheme. More than anxious – impatient. He was ready for battle, and I was an easy target. He attacked with a blast of energy, from the All, but he didn’t know that I held the Eye.”

Phalomir paused, recalling that terrifying moment. It was an image that he would never forget.

“That death wielding energy was collected within the Eye and sent lashing back at him. It killed him… I killed him.”

--------------------

"So you killed the Imposter," she finally said. "Very good; he is gone, and is now more than likely in the Hell he deserves."

She paused a moment longer to scratch her tuk'ata's neck, letting the last tendrils of her earlier rage dissolve completely. But deep within her, something dark niggled; some lost bit of memory not quite completely eliminated by the talents of her mother tickled on an unconscious level so deep that, while it brought a slight frown to her features, she was unaware of the act.

Hell. There was something about it... And something about a lad with glacial hair and eyes of fire...

She blinked, and straightened.

"So ask this place where my true father is, so we might go to his aid as fast as we can," she finished as bit by bit she left the quaking young girl behind for her former imperious self.

--------------------

For that matter, it may have actually been her true father that had died. He quickly pushed that thought away and turned his attention to the room.

“Temple,” he called out. “You have called us here, and you have shown us a truth beyond imagination. If the time has drawn to bring the Dark Lord home, then truly we shall. Show us, I ask, where to seek him.”

--------------------

"Yes," she spoke up, taking a step forward to stand beside Phalomir. Her locks flamed down her back as she tilted her head up, turning about in place to scrutinize the shadowed mystery surrounding her.

"Show me where my father is, the true Dark Lord of the Warrior Clan of the Sith!"

Triumph turned ashen then, as the Temple once again obliged. Once more an image waffled from the dark, grew into coherence before the pair:

It was the same image of the bound and tortured Roan... with another one exactly like him standing in front of his broken body. The second Roan was hale and whole, and even as they watched he threw back his horned head in a laugh they could only observe. The image changed in size then, growing smaller and smaller as perspective altered; the view was being brought outward, until a great, broken stone wall was revealed...

...followed by noisomely rippling Dark, upon whose unnatural surface there slavered millions and millions of spike-tailed demonic beings.

It seemed somehow familiar...

ShaRhylla quickly shrugged off that weird moment of deja vu, turning with wide eyes to Phalomir.

"I-- I don't under--" she began, when from nowhere a burst of knowledge so certain as to be nearly instinctual in origin descended upon her.

Her eyes widened even further; T'Karryn'd wrapped her tendrils yet more tightly about her young mistress as the halfling's one hand flashed up to her lips.

"One is my Father... and one is the Dark Lord..." she whispered, now taking an involuntary step backward as understanding pressed mockingly against her. "But yet--?"

At a loss for words she merely lowered her hand and bared her wrist. There upon it glowed the Tattoo of Entitlement, steady and pure.

But how...?

She didn't think she'd like to discover the answer to that quandary.

--------------------

“The Dark Lord Roan,” he said. “He was a fierce warrior. I researched him, after I returned to my -- “

He paused, thinking of the days, so long ago now, when he first found himself in this time. So unsure of himself, so confused, and stuck in the body of a human. He had caused the death of Roan, and needed to know more. To be sure of what he had done, of he had killed.

“He was a great Dark Lord,” he continued. “A fierce warrior, and a great leader. But then things changed -- he began to make rash decisions, callous, cruel actions… he was leading the Sith down a dark path, making enemies. It wasn’t him anymore… literally, apparently. “

He turned to the girl, his face grim.

“The Dark Lord Roan,” he said, “the real Dark Lord, is captive. The other one we saw, he is an imposter, and from what the image has shown us, born of the Darker Realms. That is where the Dark Lord is held prisoner.”

Because if he were to die, then the Dark Lordship would fall to the next in line. And that would be… who? Recinis? Me? Or some other?

And if the imposter is her father… then help us all.

“And that is where we must go to rescue him,” he said. “But we cannot do it alone, not there. We need others. Your mother, for one. And someone who may know something of this – one who has admittedly done work for the Realms -- Thoran.”

“ I believe the Temple has shown us what it brought us here to see. We should collect the others and leave this place.”

[ 12-27-2011 09:21 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Phalomir ]

--------------------

Sniffing, she straightened, assured by the tightening tendrils about her slim waist.

"If what you say is true," she began, faltering a bit. "If my true father, the True Dark Lord of the Warriors, is being held in these realms of gloom and sorrow..."

She gulped momentarily as a whisper from her own vague and disjointed memories ruffled in to disarm her: images of Entaris, her Lord, his fangs ripping her flesh, her life, sending her blood gushing outward ever and ever, into the waters from whence sprang their children...

Their daughters...

She suddenly straightened.

"Lead on, Phalomir!" she cried as with the lithe of a true warrioress she sprang atop the back of her Blood Hunt Brother's back, ignoring all propriety for the moment as she did. For while this one might at the moment be the Dark Lord of the Armorers, it did not necessarily hold true in future events, and for the moment was disregarded as such. But as for her own past, a past which seemed to be something far less than a mere dream, yet one which was stabbed throughout with visions of one she thought that at one time she truly loved...

Or hated. The two were so very, very similar...

All was moot.

"I will retrieve my father from his pain!" she vowed with the trembling strength of the all-powerful adolescent. "He shall be returned to the Realm of the Living, to take his place in K'eel Doba as true Dark Lord of the Warriors!"

Of that she had no doubt.

Without waiting to hear what her companion might say or caution, she pressed her heels to the side of her tuk'ata. Her Beast yowled into the night, as they took flight as one, and soon were lost to the shadows surrounding them.

[ 01-17-2012 11:33 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

--------------------

He snarled and turned, and in one motion leapt forward onto the back of his own giant brother.

After a few moments of speeding blindly through the dark hallways, his trust lying unrelentingly in the eyesight of his hunt brother, daylight shown through the cracks and holes. They burst into the afternoon sun, and charged into the forest after the Halfling.

--------------------

On and on they went, the ship they were returning to a vague sort of image in ShaRhylla's mind, but corporeal enough that T'Karryn'd knew precisely where it was she was supposed to go. And before the sun could drop enough to truly begin darkening the forest through which they sped, they were out of it, and she was on her feet and running up to the hatch which yet lay invitingly open.

She burst inside, took a quick glance around, surprising Panthar who, looking somewhat the worse for wear, was fiddling about with the controls.

"We must go, we must leave this place!" she announced all in one word as without even waiting for a reply she hastened toward him and shouldered him a bit to one side. Before her lay the entirety of the ship's controls; she eyed them fiercely, as if by sheer will alone she could make them do her bidding.

Behind her, there came a yowl of concern, as her tuk'ata thrashed about at the base of the gangplank. She paused a moment, thought of going to T'Karryn'd, then returned her attention to the controls.

"Oh, HOW does one manage this?" she growled. Then she stopped herself, and reared back.

Her talents. How easily she could reach out with them, and just...

T'Karryn'd yowled again, the timbre growing suddenly frantic.

[ 01-26-2012 06:47 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

--------------------

Panthar crawled backwards on his hands as ShaRhylla stood before the controls, having pushed him aside and to the ground.

Oh, poor Phalomir! Now we’ll never get off of this planet alive, and I’ll never get back to—

His thoughts were cut short by the frantic howling coming from outside the ship. He ignored ShaRhylla for the moment, as she seemed totally obsessed with the controls, and looked out into the outside world.

A large tuk’ata was reared up next to the hatchway, its back pressed against the ship. It was nearly standing on its hind legs, and its eyes blazed hot with rage. Panther shuddered at its closeness. He began to follow its gaze out to the edge of the clearing and stopped short when the form of Phalomir blasted in from the woods, atop another tuk’ata that was at least somewhat familiar. Panthar sighed a little, but realized the strange beast next to him was still howling. And now it was pushing harder against the ship, almost as if it were cornered.

“Great,” he said. “It’s not enough that you hate Phal, your pet does too?”

A loud growling roar came from the direction of Phalomir, and Panthar jerked his attention back to that area. Phalomir and his mount had made it halfway across the clearing already, but Panthar’s gaze was drawn further across the field. He squinted to make the image out more, then he realized what the tuk’ata was howling about.

A pair of giant, disembodied eyes glared at them from across the clearing, just inside the woods. It was on the opposite side from where Phalomir had entered, but it was there, clearly. The hairs on the back of Panthar’s neck stood straight and he could feel the weight of his innards as they sank.

The eyes narrowed, and they were looking at him.

He was frozen, immobilized by the burning eyes. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity, not moving, sweat dripping from his forehead and stinging his eyes. Finally, mercifully, an enormous red hand grabbed his shoulder and he was able to pull away from those eyes. It was Phalomir, standing before him and smiling.

But Panthar did not return the smile. Instead his eyes remained wide open and darted back to the edge of the clearing.

The eyes were joined by a mouth, just as disembodied. It was huge, fanged, and grinning ever so slightly. He heard Phalomir yell something a hundred miles away, the sound nothing more than a watery echo. Something about Roan, perhaps? It didn’t matter, as he felt himself being shoved into the ship and Phalomir rushing forward to ShaRhylla.

It was only then that normal sounds returned to him.

--------------------

Then Phalomir burst into the ship, shouting questions, orders, his deep voice rising up to override the frantic yowls of the pair of tuk'ata outside. He grabbed Panthar by the shoulder, yanked him bodily around, shoved him into the nearest seat as he himself then headed her way, intent on the controls of the ship.

"NO!"

The single word burst instinctively from her lips. She headed toward Phalomir, pointing to the apparently stunned Panthar as she did.

"Leave him!"

Hastening beyond him now, she came up to the hatchway, jerked to a halt before the horrible visage hanging at the edge of the clearing, yowling its demonic laughter at them. In front of the ship the pair of tuk'ata had joined forces, and were reared up on their hindmost legs, their others slashing the air in defiant protection as they spat and slavered and hissed at the apparition.

ShaRhylla turned back to Phalomir but cut a quick glance in Panthar's direction. His stunned visage was by now apparently giving way to one of confusion, judging by the shaking hand he was holding up to his head.

"Leave him."

She pointed imperiously toward the hatch, jutted her chin at Phalomir.

"The Blood-brothers will protect him, leave him!"

Why exactly this act was of dire importance to them all, she couldn't honestly say. She only knew that if they didn't abandon Panthar right here and now, they would all die.

[ 02-05-2012 12:16 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

--------------------

“You can’t—“

But the look in her eyes told Phalomir that she could, and she did, mean exactly what she said. She was desperate, adamant, and so sure of what she was saying. Something had led them here – to the planet, to this clearing, to the temple… And something had been planting feelings and impulses into ShaRhylla. So far everything had clicked into place, and now that the end of this game was in sight a new twist was being thrown.

But she looked so sure.

“But what about him?”, he found himself asking, pointing a finger to the unconscious Rykounagin.

--------------------

She clenched her fists, fought against the tsunami wave within.

"He is not Sith; leave him, too. The Blood Companions will guard him as well; that is, mine will once I have instructed her to do so. But we dare not bring him; he is weak, and thus presents himself as one that can be likewise used against us."

--------------------

“Hold on with all of your might and go to the Temple,” he told Panthar as he walked towards his trembling friend. “I must go with ShaRhylla, but I will be back for you. Take care of Rykounagin. Md’diffnnd will hunt for you, and there are supplies in the inner chambers.”

Without another word he escorted the two outside. He looked sharply across the field, but there was nothing to see. The tuk’ata calmed somewhat and Phalomir helped Panthar onto Md’diffnnd. He looked back to the hatchway and nodded to ShaRhylla.

“Instruct your companion,” he said. “Then we leave this place.”

He glanced back to the other side of the clearing. Although there was nothing there, he felt they were being watched.

--------------------

"Assist as best you can, and speak with Them both." Using the Link that now existed permanently between them, the halfling sent her final instructions directly into T'Karryn'd's mind.

"Treat them and obey them as you would me until my return, my dear tuk'ata."

T'Karryn'd responded by lifting her felinoid face upward and unleashing a fierce yet somehow mournful yowl. Then she quieted and moved carefully to stand next to her counterpart, two face tendrils reaching out to lightly touch Panthar's leg while the other seemed to lightly caress Rykounagin. Giving out a little huff, she then hunkered down so that the white-haired lad could more easily climb aboard.

Her cargo secure on her back then, she rose to her feet, and directed a somehow even more mournful look directly into ShaRhylla's bi-colored eyes.

"Go! And protect!"

With an imperious gesture the halfling pointed toward the woods, but said no more. T'Karryn'd, although clearly unhappy about it, woofled once, turned, and with a lithe and easy bound disappeared with her burden into the shadows. ShaRhylla watched as the larger male tuk'ata followed suit. Then--

"We must go now, come!"

Saying no more, she disappeared into the ship.

[ 07-09-2012 01:00 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by ShaRhylla ]

--------------------

She paused only long enough to give the great Dark Lord of the Sorcerers a loving look.

Then her fingers assumed the odd horned pattern, pointer and pinky upward, the middle two curled against her palm, her thumb holding them surely there. She tweaked, and the interstices of space and time bowed to her command. A strangely bubbling blackness vortexed open, the other side of which she could not see but could feel as clearly as if she stood within it.

"This will take but a moment, Father. Your trust in me shall hasten my -- our return."

With that she stepped forward and passed through the Portal she had created, this one between the realm of the real, and that one known by no other name than Elseness.

For indeed, no other title could come close to describing this non-dimension's utter strangeness...

The Portal snickered closed in her wake, leaving the great Sorcerer Lord alone with the roiling Octahedron and his even more roiling thoughts...

She stepped out onto a jungled world, lifted her head, and reached out with her abilities. Her daughter and her beloved were here, and if she had done things correctly would be someplace in the vicinity of her arrival.

Wishing she had the comforting strength of her dear M'wonBo'o to help her, she set off in a direction no more distinguished from any other, than the fact that this one seemed to trigger a guiding nudge from her heart.

[ 11-12-2012 02:31 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

--------------------

A strange prickling rose on the back of his neck. He paused, shuddering slightly as a chill accompanied the sensation. His thoughts turned immediately to Jharmeen, her face flashing in his mind’s eye in an instant. How long had it been since he had seen her last? How many countless days had they been apart? He trusted K’kihl absolutely, and he knew she would be safe with him, but the longing in his heart was great and he wished dearly to see her. To know for certain if she was safe.

He sighed lightly and stepped up into the ship.

“Can you take us there?” he asked. “Are your talents able to open a door into the Darker Realms, and are you prepared for what waits for us in that horrid place?”

--------------------