OAS2 Event: Good v. Evil, Valsharess v. White Lady

[Mikayla]

The Ivory Tower of the White Lady was as impressive as the powers that be could make it; it was tall, broad at the base, tapering up elegantly to its highest levels where it was crowned with a ring of battlements. Near the ground, the thick, white stones of the outer wall were pierced with narrow arrow slits, while higher up the arrow slits gave way to arched windows with heavy shutters. The tower was a monument, a stronghold and a working seat of government all at once. It was also, however, unfinished. Workers swarmed about the incomplete fortification, climbing about on rickety scaffolding, carrying tools and materials too and fro, and coming and going at great speed through the open doors like ants to and from their hill.

The Valsharess of ALFA, Mikayla, smiled with some amusement. The tower’s grandiose entry, the marble statues of leaders long since gone, the high ceilings and the steep steps, all designed to make the individual feel small, to reinforce the enormity of the community and the authority of its leaders, amused her. A lot of planning, a lot of work and a lot of expense went into this tower, but the Valsharess wondered if it was worth the cost. How well would the Ivory Tower hold in a real siege if the masses turned against their new steward? How quickly would the awe generated by the grandiose entry, marble statues and steep steps turn to resentment? When would the Ivory Tower cease to represent hope, and come to represent tyranny? Only time would tell.

Mikayla approached the tower on her bebilith Vendrin, a giant shape-changing demonic spider that had faithfully borne her about during her time as ALFA’s dark queen, defending her when necessary and reminding her where her loyalties lay when needed. Her loyal assistant and sister in evil, Zakharra accompanied her as well, and somewhere out there near the horizon, Mikayla knew that others lurked and watched, like Souvarine. The common folk at the tower gate stared wide-eyed as the beautiful, black-skinned, white-haired Valsharess approached upon her abyssal steed. Some ran, some screamed, some fell to their knees in obeisance. After all, for the last two years the Valsharess had held dominion over ALFA, had she not?

One human did not run. He scowled, and placed his meaty hand upon his sword hilt. Paying no mind to the panic and fear sweeping the commoners about him he strode forth to meet the oncoming monstrosity and its exotic rider. “What do you want?” Barked Sir Rusty, seneschal of ALFA now that Mikayla had given up her place on the Inner Circle.

Mikayla was tempted to call upon the dark power of her goddess and set the Seneschal alight, but she was tired of such confrontations. She and the seneschal had tangled many times, with differing results. She was certainly confident she could vanquish him if she had to, but doing so was neither necessary nor advisable. Rusty was still a part of the Inner Circle and his death would be avenged quickly. Besides, she thought, of all of ALFA’s evils, he was not the one that called to her. Not at the moment.

“I’m here to see the queen.” She replied, spitting out the word queen as if it was an insult.

“Yeah?” Rusty asked barked rhetorically. “Well, you’re not part of the Inner Circle anymore. You’ve no right to demand an audience. If she wants to see you, she will, and if she doesn’t, she won’t.”

“Indeed.” Mikayla replied with a wicked smile, revealing her long, delicate vampiric fangs. Her pointed, demonic tail flicked about playfully behind her. “Why don’t you run along then and see if she desires to see me?” She purred.

Sir Rusty said no more; he merely regarded the Valsharess with open hostility and contempt. Nevertheless, the White Lady was willing to see the Valsharess, and so the fiendish drow-Matron was led inside, though her abyssal arachnid companion Vendrin and her sister Zakharra were forced to wait at the gates of the tower.

In the great hall the White Lady stood near her throne, reviewing the latest maps from ALFA’s greatest cartographer and map maker, the explorer Indio. They acted quite pleased with themselves, though the kingdom’s chief engineers, Cipher and Acadius seemed rather concerned about the amount of work it would require to stitch this far flung kingdom together. Maps did not hold kingdoms together; laws and roads did, and while maps were easy to draw, roads were substantially harder to build. Standing near them was Fanaticus Incendi, the woman who had taken Mikayla’s place on the Inner Circle, a beautiful and exotic fire-dancer who promised to be almost as interesting on the Inner Circle as Mikayla had been. All of these people were supporters of the Light, however, or so they would have others believe. They were also all surfacers, though none of them were unfamiliar with the Valsharess. As Mikayla approached, the conversation slowed. In a moment, the only sound in the great hall was the tapping of Mikayla’s stiletto-boot heels upon the polished marble floor. Around the hall eyes narrowed suspiciously, hands moved to hilts, and hearts began to race as the assemblage stared at the approaching evil. Mikayla knew that in this hall she was outnumbered and outmatched. She was free to do as she liked now, having slipped the bonds that bound her while on the Inner Circle, but once off the Inner Circle, she was now at their mercy, at least while in the court of the White Lady at the Ivory Tower. That thought also amused Mikayla; she was at their mercy. She wondered. Would they take advantage of this moment? Would they slay her here and now while they could? Sir Rusty would do it, she thought, but what of the others? It would take all of them, but they could do it now. She was alone, in their midst. No, she decided finally, they would not do it. Doing so would be against their vaunted principles, against their ‘goodness.’ They would consider such an ambush ‘evil’, whatever that meant, and such ‘evil’ might just cost them their souls. Mikayla almost laughed at the thought. Would it be worth it? Letting them kill her now, in their hall, in return for damning their souls? Yes, it would be she thought. But as amusing as the thought was, she stifled the laugh and simply smiled instead. She had business to attend to and laughing at the assemblage might feel good but it was not going to get anything done.

Of those in the hall, only the White Lady, Wynna, did not seem phased by Mikayla’s arrival. The White Lady held Mikayla’s gaze as the Valsharess approached, though just for a second, Mikayla thought she heard the White Lady mutter “Torm give me strength.” Mikayla wondered if he would.

“Welcome Valsharess.” Wynna said evenly and politely as Mikayla approached. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” Polite, as required, but still tough and unyielding. A core of steel ran through the White Lady, Mikayla thought. The White Lady might be the enemy of the Valsharess, but Mikayla would give Wynna what the White Lady was due; she was an enemy worthy of Mikayla’s respect and so she would get it. At least for now.

“My time of dominion is at end, Queen Wynna.” Mikayla replied, emphasizing the word queen as she did. She knew that Wynna would not style herself a queen, but Mikayla wanted to invoke the specter of monarchs and tyranny just the same. “Your time of dominion commences. It is the cycle of things, like the cycle of night and day. There was day, when you were Queen once before, then dusk as I joined the Inner Circle of ALFA’s nobility and then night as you left the Inner Circle. After a year and a half of night, the sky began to lighten, as you rejoined the circle. But now it is dawn, as I leave the Inner Circle and you bring day to the world once again.”

The White Lady frowned slightly, tilted her head and almost rolled her eyes. Mikayla’s recitation of the past was not inaccurate, but it was a bit more melodramatic than Wynna might have liked. “This maybe so, but you’ve not told us why you’ve come to my tower. What brings you here at the hour of your freedom, your release from the Inner Circle?”

Mikayla ran her clawed fingers through her silken white hair, past delicate little horns, and pulled a length of hair over her shoulder. She began braiding the hair, affecting a mockery of school-girl innocence. “Desire, of course.” Mikayla said as sweetly as she could.

Wynna’s eyes narrowed now, suspicious. “Desire for what?”

Mikayla smiled and it was a beautiful smile, but somehow chilling just the same. “You’ve long held the people’s respect. Over the years, you have been protected from the worst of ALFA’s fires by your shining, silver armor. You’ve long soared above the mud that soils the common folk of ALFA on the strength of your great, angelic, feathered wings. And you’ve long been seen as the hope of a better ALFA because of the golden halo you wear. You are ALFA’s angel, its White Lady, its Queen of Light.” Mikayla smiled her wicked, beautiful smile again, deliberately revealing her fangs. She knew this would not intimidate the White Lady, not for Wynna’s own personal safety anyway. But it was a reminder that Mikayla could and would live off the blood of others; others who were now in the care of Wynna and who trusted in the White Lady for their well being and safety. Mikayla swirled her demonic tail about playfully, then curled it over her shoulder and pointed just above Wynna’s head. “I want your golden halo, pulled down from on high by the rusted, iron grip of defeat.” Her tail dropped slightly, pointing at Wynna’s breast. “I want your shining silver armor ripped from your body by the jagged, yellow teeth of failure.” Now the demonic tail swirled about again, making a circle around Wynna. “And most of all, I want those great feathered wings of yours cut from your back by the dull, jagged knife of a hero’s fall from grace. In short, I want your light, my Queen.”

The demoness grinned and laughed wickedly. Oh how she did desire these things; for years Wynna had remained untouched by the wars of ALFA. While Mikayla was up to her armpits in the mud and blood and gore of the struggles that wracked the world of ALFA, Wynna had somehow stayed above it all, aloof, un-phased and untouched. Mikayla, on the other hand, had trudged through the muck, slaying those that opposed her, getting stabbed by friend and foe alike, fighting fire with fire and blade with blade. Many had passed through ALFA never to be seen again, burned by the dark flame of the Valsharess, cut down by her sword or strangled by her whip. But Wynna? The White Lady soared above it all. Golden, untouchable, unmarred and unsullied. But Mikayla had had enough of that. Now was the time; now she would drag the White Lady down; now the White Lady would have to get dirty, would have to march through the blood and mud that the rest of ALFA marched through - that Mikayla had marched through. It was time for the White Lady to pay the piper, as it were.

Though she did not seek conflict, Wynna was not intimidated by the she-demon, at least, not enough to show it. “You’ll have to take these things then, if you want them.” Wynna said resolutely, squaring her shoulders to Mikayla, unfurling her wings and resting a silver gauntleted hand upon the hilt of her sword. “And I don’t believe you can do it.”

“I don’t have to take them.” Mikayla replied. “You’ll give them to me willingly.”

“Why would I do that?” Wynna asked.

“Because we will make your halo, your armor and your wings, your light, part of our bargain. Our bet. Our wager.”

“What wager?” The White Lady asked suspiciously.

“A wager of good versus evil, dark versus light; the White Lady’s minions against the minions of the Valsharess. We’ve done this before, you and I, if you recall. More than once we’ve challenged each other.” Indeed they had. Once, the minion of the Valsharess had been successful in obtaining a glymtul of Helm, and the minion of the White Lady sent to defend the glymtul had been, well, misdirected into uselessness. But the hand of fate played a cruel trick on the Valsharess that day and a third party intervened to prevent her success. The two had struggled again and once Mikayla had even forced the White Lady to watch as the minions of the Valsharess butchered an elven family. But the victory was pyrric at best - before Mikayla's raiders could finish off the village a troop of human rangers blundered into the raid and Mikayla was forced to withdraw. Providence, it seemed, favored the Light.

“What do I have to gain?” Wynna asked, her hand relaxing on her hilt. “You said what you want, but not said what you are willing to give.”

“Well now, that is for you to decide isn't it my queen.” Mikayla replied slowly and seductively. She knew the White Lady would never be tempted by her, no matter how beautiful she might make herself appear, but it was fun to try and get under the angel’s skin. “What do you want? What makes the wager worth taking? What can I possibly do for you?” Mikayla asked, pressing her back up against pillar and raising her arms as if bound, arching her back and thrusting out her perfectly formed breasts. “What ever might you want of me?” She spread her legs slightly, and slipped her tail between them, stroking her inner thigh with it. “Surley there must be something I can do for you?”

"Please stop." Wynna responded. "You're embarrassing yourself."

Mikayla was not embarrassed though, she just giggled. "I had to try. Its in my nature you know. One of my ancestors was a succubus."

Wynna was not tempted or amused by the she-demon’s antics. She knew exactly what she wanted from the demoness and it was certainly not the witch’s tainted sex. She wanted the one thing the abyssal slut was not going to want to yield. “I want your darkness.” Wynna said sternly. “For the last two years you’ve been willingly bound by the spells to serve ALFA. You’ve been bound to tell the truth, and you’ve been bound so that you cannot summon or use your dark flames. That was the price you paid to enter the Inner Circle. And now that you leave the Inner Circle, you are unbound and free to return to your wicked ways. But I would see you bound again. Not on the Inner Circle of course, we are not unhappy to see you go, but simply bound by this wager. If I win, you will live as good soul. No dark fire, no rebellion, no civil war or insurrection. No burning down my tower, slaying my followers or harming ALFA in anyway. For the duration of my time as Queen, you will be ... good. Your darkness will be set aside, and you will work for good, as I direct. I will have, in effect, your horns, your tail and those stiletto heeled boots you love so much and I will use them for my purposes, to benefit our community.”

A bolt of fear coursed through Mikayla. She had been bound for years and had only now just regained her freedom. True, she had chosen to be bound in return for power, but the power no longer held the allure it once had. She wanted her freedom now. She wanted to do as she pleased, to act as she might. She did not want to be bound again, and certainly not by this white witch. The humiliation would be unbearable.

Mikayla's playful smile turned to a pout and she stood up straight from the pillar. “I’ve just been freed from two years of binding and now you want me to go back? To be bound again? That is too high a price!”

“What you demand is just as costly. You want my light?” Wynna challenged. “Then you must wager your darkness.” The White Lady’s hazel eyes held the red glowing gaze of the demon. Mikayla turned away and paced about the hall, her heels clicking on the floor, her tail swishing back and forth angrily. Why did the Goddess want this of her? What did Lolth stand to gain by forcing Mikayla to challenge the White Lady? Wynna held the power of the kingdom now, and all the kingdom's might was at her disposal. Mikayla had nothing in comparison, save for a few scattered followers. And her faith. Was this a set up by the Spider Queen? Was this how the Mother of Lusts was going to get rid of the Valsharess? Or perhaps Lolth simply liked seeing her favored servant in chains. Mikayla did not know the answer but she knew she had to obey. Lolth wanted this challenge made, so, regardless of the price, Mikayla had to make it.

She stopped her agitated pacing and glared menacingly at the White Lady, her glowing eyes traveling over Wynna’s armor, sword, wings, and halo, and then sweeping about the chamber, taking in Wynna’s many followers.

“Fine.” Mikayla finally hissed through soft lips and sharp fangs. “The White Lady, Queen of Light, against the Valsharess, the Dark Queen, and the wager is your light against my darkness.”

Wynna nodded resolutely. “Excellent. So, now all we need to discuss are the terms of the contest.”

“Indeed” Mikayla replied, her wicked smile returning as if she had never been upset. “Let us discuss ...”

Discuss indeed. How then would this play out? The White Lady's light against her own abyssal darkness. What chance did she have against the hero of the land and all her might? Probably none, but the Goddess did not care; in fact, it might be precisely why Mikayla was given such a challenge - the Goddess never stopped testing her followers, and the more powerful a follower grew, the more difficult the tests became. Test me Lolth. Was that not among the most common of all prayers to the Spider Queen? But it was a prayer Mikayla had no need to utter - as Wynna began to explain her thoughts on the contest Mikayla knew she was already being tested, and what she had promised the White Lady if she lost the wager was nothing compared to what Lolth would take from her.

[Wynna]

The time had been expected and the time had come. The evil thing before her could be bound no longer, indeed, Wynna could not say for certain that it had been bound over the last years by anything but a desire for power. The Valsharess had chosen her own binding to the Inner Circle, after all, and it would not be just in Wynna's ear that martial little birds whispered the wisdom of keeping your friends close...and your enemies closer. Her gaze straying to the maps strewn around the council table, Wynna knew that what the Valsharess had gained through such proximity to the court was knowledge kept from most of her evil ilk. What the erstwhile White Lady had gained remained to be seen. Other than more years than I care to remember.

Stilling a regret that the black-hearted evil in female form did not wear the lines nor show the aches that the mere human must suffer, Wynna folded her arms. Shining armor and angelic wings, was it? Then that was what the Valsharess would see. "You darken our future with your presence but your threats will find no purchase in our fear, for we are proof against the bloodless hissings of uncertainty."

"Bloodless?" The Valsharess perhaps drew out the sibilance deliberately. She clearly let her smile curl back from fangs that had tasted blood enough in her time.

At the thought, a thrumming determination surged within Wynna's veins. For an instant she was dizzied with the conviction of righteousness, a righteousness that flashed through her mind in images of the past: battles won and lost, friends sacrificed and enemies vanquished. For that instant, it seemed the convictions were her own...and then the sweet otherwordly provenance of the sensations stole through her, stinging tears to her eyes. My Lord she thought, even as the sensations faded, leaving her only human. Alternately praying for and dreading the return of the touch she had not felt in so long, she turned her back on the Valsharess and the room, staring blankly out a window. Leaning a fist on the sill, she contemplated the long drop to the hard ground, counting the strokes as a team masons painted white lime onto the footings of the tower so far below. Watching a proper whitewashing had always soothed her. She stood silent until her knees could hold her...until she knew Torm would not return...until she knew she had to speak.

"I will not fight you."

"What?" The Valsharess spat. "Then it is true! Your retirement softened you. Your weakness--"

"It is not me you challenge." Wynna did not raise her voice. The bitch could listen or not. She would be shown the door or the window after this, whether or not she agreed. Sir Rusty would be glad to provide that service, of that Wynna was sure. She went on when the silence of the room could be heard behind the breathing of the occupants and the rustling of papers in the breeze through the window. "It is all of ALFA you challenge and it is ALFA who will respond. Sir Hialmar." She glanced sideways at the noble paladin turned herald. "Send word throughout the realm that all honorable citizens of a goodly bent under the dominion of Lady Fanaticus Incendi are invited to take part in...in a contest." She fancied she heard the gnashing of sharp, pointed teeth behind her. The mention of the council member who had replaced the Valsharess had been a calculated swipe at the creature's pride, no matter the reasons she had first joined the Inner Circle. "We shall require...four. Yes, four, champions." Though she felt her age in every sinew, to the detriment of her speed and strength, age had also increased the most important aspect of a leader: wisdom. Or perhaps it was the lingering touch of the gods, inspiring her with the gauntlet the Valsharess could not refuse.

"What kind of contest?" The Valsharess's voice, rather than angry, was silken. It could not truly be that the Valsharess Mikayla hungered only for the debasement of one steward of ALFA? Steward only, despite the mockery of the title of "Queen" flung like a weapon itself.

Refusing to be intimidated further, Wynna turned, leaning back against the sill, one hand resting almost accidentally on her sword hilt. "The Choker of Life," she said flatly, and was rewarded by a flare of surprise in the glowing red eyes. The greedy flash after was not so comforting.

"It is a myth," the Valsharess said.

"You didn't learn everything in your years here." The steadiness of Wynna's tone was intended to sting more than any contempt, and it seemed to succeed. "It was last heard of near the hamlet of Soubar."

"You propose to find the Choker of Life and use it against me?" The Valsharess's heels clicked on the floor as she advanced. Sir Rusty stepped out to meet her. Off to the side, Sir Cipher prepared a Drow KOS script, just in case.

"I propose to trust the youth and future of ALFA to find it," Wynna said, and swallowed at the brush of an invisible hand that seemed to smooth her hair in approval, like a child's. Eyes steady, she said, "And should they, yes, I will accept your wager, and consider it won and your evil forfeit on the altar of good." You may be telling me that it is time for a new generation to rise, Lord, but allow me this one last act of good in your honor. One last sacrifice. She eyed the Valsharess. And this time, not of a friend.

[Mikayla]

“As you wish, then.” Mikayla replied, almost pleasantly. “We shall compete for the Choker of Life. And we shall do it through our proxies. The ‘youth’ of ALFA as you say. And if you win, you may sacrifice me on your altar.” She smiled playfully. A bloody sacrifice was certainly not what Wynna had in mind, she was sure, but she liked drawing parallels between the White Lady’s intent and the very evils the Lady abhorred. “Now then, I must take my leave of your glamorous tower and its fine people. I have recruiting to do it seems. Let me know when you’ve assembled your sacrificial lambs, and we will get this underway. Don’t pick anyone you are too fond of though.” She stopped and turned back to Wynna. “Or perhaps you should. You don’t enjoy anything quite as much as sacrificing a friend, do you? Nothing proves your inner-mettle like letting someone you love die for the ‘greater good’ does it?” She laughed softly and wickedly as she looked the White Lady over. “You might be the people’s symbol of hope and goodness, but under that halo and beneath that armor, you’re as cold as the steel you like to think you are made of. I wonder if the people would still love you if they knew how quickly you would sacrifice them?” Mikayla shrugged then. “I suppose we’ll never know though.” Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked out. “You know where to find me, my Queen.”

*******************

Mikayla’s companions were not at the tower gates when she exited. She walked for hours until she was past the settled lands surrounding the tower, past the patrols of knights and men-at-arms. There, out of sight of the Ivory Tower and its guardians she found Vendrin and Zakharra sitting by a campfire. Vendrin was no longer in his demonic-spider form. Instead, he had taken the form of a large, muscular drow male with wild hair and piercing eyes.

“They let you go.” He said. “I am a little surprised.”

The Valsharess nodded. “Me too, actually. I doubt I would have been as generous.”

“Did she accept your challenge?” Zakharra asked. The young priestess was cooking some sort of surface animal over a make-shift spit.

Mikayla nodded slowly. “Yes. In a manner of speaking.”

“What does that mean?” Vendrin asked, stirring the campfire with a long stick.

“It means she will not fight me herself. She wants us to compete through proxies.”

Vendrin grinned. “Fine, I’ll have her gutted by sun-up.”

“No, not you.” Mikayla shook her head. “She wants us to compete through ‘ALFAs youth’. And that certainly does not include you.”

“This is stupid anyway.” He replied, tossing his stick into the fire. “Your time here is done.” He said emphatically, staring at Mikayla with dark, smoldering eyes. “What are you doing still here? They don’t want you here. They don’t want your kind here. Your flesh is abyssal. The blood that flows in your veins is stolen. Your black skin and white hair are mere vestiges of your mortal life, you’re not drow anymore and you don’t belong here. You belong out in the planes, with me, hunting. Leave this place with me. Come with me and we will hunt the most dangerous prey across the most fantastic worlds you can imagine. This place, this ALFA, this is not your home anymore. It is done with you. You should be done with it.”

“The Goddess desires that I do this.” Mikayla replied softly.

“To the hells with your goddess then!” Vendrin replied angrily, standing up quickly in frustration. “There, I’ve said it. I’m no longer her servant, and you don’t need to be either. Forget her. She plays with you. You are nothing to her. Haven’t you done enough for her? For ‘your people’? Its time for you to live for yourself, not for some sadistic goddess who’ll destroy you for a laugh, and not for a people you no longer truly belong to. Live for yourself. Not for them. Come with me.”

The Valsharess stared into the fire silently. She reached out and picked up the stick that Vendrin had tossed away, and she began to stir the coals of the fire with it. “I cannot leave. Not yet. I have to do this thing. The Goddess desires it, and I will do it. I know what you think of my Goddess, I’ve known for a long time, and I’ve looked the other way. But I cannot turn my back on Her as you have. I do not want to. This last thing I will do for Her.”

“It will be your death.” Vendrin said flatly. “What do you think your chances are? You’re not on the Inner Circle anymore. They have all the power. They make the laws now, and they have the armies. You’ve nothing but yourself and a handful of followers, and I’ll not follow you into this.”

“I know.” She said heavily. “I know.”

“I am leaving then.” Vendrin replied. “I ...” He paused. “In a month I will be at the brothel in Zelantar, on the plane of Azzagrat. You know the one. Where you and Zakharra lived. I will not stay long. I do not like to linger in the shadow of the Dark Prince. Meet me there. If you can.”

The Valsharess looked up at Vendrin, her eyes large. “I will.” She answered. “If I can.” She looked over at Zakharra who was still cooking. “You should take her with you. She need not play a role in this.”

“I’m staying with you.” Zakharra responded matter-of-factly.

Vendrin nodded. “You might as well give up on that.” He said to Mikayla. “Telling her not to follow you is like me telling you not to follow your damned Goddess. Its pointless.” He turned away angrily, but stopped. “If either of you survive, meet me in Zelantar. Otherwise ... goodbye.” He walked away into the darkness without waiting for an answer.

“Goodbye seriso.” Mikayla said softly after he was gone.

Zakharra pulled the roasting animal off the spit. “Its almost ready.” She began carving the meat. "Don't you think Vendrin might be right? Shouldn't we just leave? And even if we don't wander the planes with him, shouldn't we make our exodus now?"

“Sister,” she said to Zakharra, “if you are going to follow me, then you will follow the Goddess. So, after you eat, we must get going. We’ve got to find our champions. At least four dark souls, with hearts wounded by the shining tyranny of the Ivory Tower.”

“Do you think there are such dark souls out there?” Zakharra asked. “Since you’ve left the Inner Circle, the forces of ‘good’ have grown strong, and their white tower climbs higher and higher into the sky."

“Indeed it does.” The Valsharess admitted. “But the taller their Ivory Tower climbs, the longer its shadow grows. There will be those out there who have been hurt by the White Lady and her minions, who have been subject to the cold, merciless 'justice' of the self-righteous, who wish to throw off the shackles of their tyranny, who wish revenge for their hypocrisy, who desire change and who want to see the Ivory Tower burn. Those are the dark souls we must find. The wounded, the outcasts, the black-hearted and the vengeful - all those for whom the Ivory Tower stands as monument to a system that will never represent them, never defend them, and never welcome them. They are our champions. We must find them.”

[Wynna]

There was so much to do, an entire realm to be built with its attendant issues of citizenry and housing, borders to be drawn and regions to be filled. She tried not to wonder if the list of tasks before ALFA had anything to do with this 'delegation' of responsibility. Quite a delegation. Who would accept such a delegation of risk among the youth she had so blithely put forward?

Not blithe. Never blithe. And she did the fresh young spirits of ALFA a disservice by assuming in her pride--even for a moment--that none would step up...that only she had the inclination to defend the good.

"We shall need a declaration." She mused aloud, gazing once again out the window, but this time into the distance. Soubar was out there, somewhere. She let her eyes be drawn to that green horizon. It seemed to draw closer, promising adventure. A memory stirred, a memory of potential and excitement and glory for the good to be won. And for self. Don't discount such a hunger in the young. An almost rueful smile touched her lips. Once, such stirrings had been the most important part of her role in ALFA. Once she had been a naive explorer, thrilling on new experience and the ever-present risk of death to add appreciation of life.

"They will answer the call," she said softly, and knew it to be true. What fresh heart would not swell to the opportunity to write their name forever across ALFA's future, to quest for the Choker of Life that could bind the Valsharess to the Light?

Her time was past. She must need only trust, and wait for those who wished to be part of such a quest to present themselves.

******************************

Anybody who wishes to be part of this OAS2 event on the 'Good' Team or the 'Evil' Team, please PM or post with a short description of your so-aligned PC. We're shooting for four per team, but could go up to six. Mik and I will each run a first level PC ourselves on our respective teams. First level, any class, any race. The date is tentatively Saturday 23 February, Noon PST/1500 EST/2000 GMT. We'll post instructions and links to Worldgate to update to the latest PWC before the game.

Should be fun!

[Veilan]

Grumbling, the veiled figure looked up from a stack of parchments. Lists. Documents. Papers. Discussions on lists, documents, papers. And discussions thereof.

"Choker of life? Sounds like it has at least one property from 9a on it, if not from 9c... now, if only I had the time to dispatch a loyal group of those lawful neutrals to obtain it for pricing..."

, it thought, before sinking attention back into an ominous looking pamphlet. Revision Three, the blood red flaming lettered heading read.

[Wynna]

All silly, self-indulgent and melodramatic IC framework aside, doesn't anybody want to join a DMed team event?

[ç i p h é r]

This sounds like loads of fun. I'd like to participate, time permitting. Do you have any idea how long the event might run?

[Wynna]

I'd say we'd be shooting for about 2 hours. I've had one PM for the Good Team. Roll on Team Goody Two Shoes.

[Mikayla]

The Darkside, as yet, has had some "maybes" but no one yet has been brave enough to embrace evil. Come on, don't be afraid of the dark!

[Veilan]

Sadly - or not so sadly, actually - I'll be at a concert saturday that time. Else I'd have had to flip a coin .

[ç i p h é r]

And sadly, that makes two. I forgot that I'll be in Houston on the 23rd.

[Wynna]

And sadly, that makes two. I forgot that I'll be in Houston on the 23rd.

So will I.

[JaydeMoon]

Jayde Moon had watched the Valsharess enter the tower. His contacts within told him what had occured. As ALFA's Queen of Darkness left, he smiled to himself. A contest, was it? A race to procure the legendary Choker of Life. A mythical artifact, the exact properties were unknown.

Jayde knew all he needed to know about the artifact. He knew that it was coveted by both dark and light. That made it a valuable commodity. If there was anything Jayde Moon had knowledge in, it was valuable commodities. How many times had he arranged the acquisition of various items, ranging in power from minute trifles to life destroying artifacts feared by the general populace.

Indeed, many felt that Jayde's mercenary ways should be outlawed and the powers the be had acted to cull such opportunities, limiting the availability of that currency of ALFA. Mistakenly believing such efforts would disable Jayde's activities, instead they provided legitimacy to his them. He had never before acted outside of any real laws; now he had 'rules' and 'standards' to support his actions.

As for this... Choker of Life, Jayde was not certain what it did, what it was worth, or why they desired it. However, as a connoisseur of such... 13wt, he was certain that he wanted it. To hold it briefly, before selling it to the highest bidder. All he needed was to find a few trustworthy individuals to take the haul for him. Men and women within this Land Far Away that had their price and no true allegiance to either side.

[Wynna]

Jayde Moon had watched the Valsharess enter the tower. His contacts within told him what had occured. As ALFA's Queen of Darkness left, he smiled to himself. A contest, was it? A race to procure the legendary Choker of Life. A mythical artifact, the exact properties were unknown.

Jayde knew all he needed to know about the artifact. He knew that it was coveted by both dark and light. That made it a valuable commodity. If there was anything Jayde Moon had knowledge in, it was valuable commodities. How many times had he arranged the acquisition of various items, ranging in power from minute trifles to life destroying artifacts feared by the general populace.

Indeed, many felt that Jayde's mercenary ways should be outlawed and the powers the be had acted to cull such opportunities, limiting the availability of that currency of ALFA. Mistakenly believing such efforts would disable Jayde's activities, instead they provided legitimacy to his them. He had never before acted outside of any real laws; now he had 'rules' and 'standards' to support his actions.

As for this... Choker of Life, Jayde was not certain what it did, what it was worth, or why they desired it. However, as a connoisseur of such... 13wt, he was certain that he wanted it. To hold it briefly, before selling it to the highest bidder. All he needed was to find a few trustworthy individuals to take the haul for him. Men and women within this Land Far Away that had their price and no true allegiance to either side.

Good onya, Jayde. May the best team win. And by 'best', I of course mean 'good', not evil or neutral.

[Mikayla]

Hmmph. So we are going to let a neutral team play? I happen to know they already have like 3 or 4 people, while good and evil have ... um ... none.