~Where do we want to go?~ she asks.
The female dark elf indicates a direction. ~Easiest route, navigationally, is probably straight back toward the center of the Dominance, then northward toward Silussa/Nightfrost's lair. From there, we have an assortment of options, even if he isn't home.~
A thought crosses her mind, which she raises somewhat hesitantly. ~If we are going to travel this way....perhaps, if you have no objection, we should arrange for some type of riding equipment? I don't think my being bareback on you is the easiest thing for either of us.~
Jewell laughs, a combination of a nicker and stacatto notes from her spiraled horn. ~If you wish, I can provide a blanket. Nothing more is needed for me. My back will take no harm unless you became fixed to it for several days. For now, if you have no discomfort, we shall continue as we are.~
~No discomfort here; I've nearly slept on horseback, and I didn't get this old by not having a fair resistance.~
~Fine. For now we will be okay.~
Tipping a wing in the direction she felt Viconia indicated as the 'center of the Dominance', Jewell wheels gently and begins the first leg of their journey.
~I do hope Silussia is 'home',~ she telepaths merrily. ~I should like to meet this drow-dragon you have such high respect and sincere concern about.~
~He is certainly....unique. That may be the best way to put it.~ Viconia' mental words are accompanied with a very dry chuckle.
Jewell again laughs with excitement as their journey begins.
* * * * *
The journey which took Viconia arduous weeks by land, wandering back and forth, takes much less on the return. Soon enough, the center of the Dominance is visible. Much of it has recovered in the intervening time from the ravages of what is commonly known as "The Dark Tide."
Much, but not all. A substantial area is still barren, devoid of even a trace of life.
The gemicon spirals over the blasted land, awe and horror barely contained.
~What has happened?~ she asks her companion in a small voice. ~Has some evil god made it barren?~ She shivers as she flies, a sense of dread building within her
Viconia shares Jewell's dread; this place holds too many bad memories. However, it would not be appropriate to show those emotions. She is, after all, a noble Drow.
~That is a very good way of stating it. A war was fought here, between an entity known as 'Legion' and forces from several different dimensions, as 'Legion' attempted to invade and consume this place. The Land has recovered much of what was lost, but some still remains as Legion left it.~
Tears from the imagined horror threaten Jewell's eyes. Suddenly she turns and spirals to the edge of the blackened region, landing gently.
"I-" she hesitates, trying to speak. "I can't imagine what kind of creature could do such a thing! What is the reason? Why destroy everything?"
Restless, she paces closer to the first blackened edge, her wings rustling.
~Perhaps 'destroy' is the wrong term. It seeked to absorb everything. It was...or, rather, is, I suspect....a communal entity. Trillions of minds, slaved to the service of an overmind which seeks to expand and absorb new dimensions, probably for food and raw materials.~
The dark elf falls silent, her memories returning to the awful killing powers unleased against it, to no avail. The damage done to the Land and her Inhabitants in the name of defending same.
Jewell breathes in the scent of the scorched earth, coughing as dust enters her nostrils. One hoof gently scrapes at the barren ground.
"Will it ever grow again?" she asks aloud, needing to hear something alive, if only herself. The human words trill from the equine mouth clearly, accompanied by a quiet harmony emerging from the gemicon's brilliant horn. "Will something live here again?"
She can't imagine anything taking root under the dust, yet she cannot bear the thought that no one would try to restore life to the area.
Viconia allows herself a soft, dark laugh, grateful for the distraction from her memories. "Oh, yes, it shall. The land itself here is alive; it will not allow this area to stand as a monument to what was."
The dark elf's eyes narrow, as she sniffs the air. "Something...is not right here. A scent of magic, I think."
Knowing her own senses are not attuned to enchantments, Jewell finds herself testing the air reflexively. "Magic? Surely this whole area reeks of it! Evil magic!" she protests softly.
"It reeks of it, but this is something....different."
Touching the blackened dirt with one hoof, and finding no ill effects, Jewell enters the blackened region slowly. "I wish I could see some life here," she murmurs uncertainly as puffs of soot rise up as she walks, "It is enough to make me ill to see this."
The dark elf once again falls silent, reminded of her own part in the creation of this hellhole.
Step by step the gemicon takes herself and her rider into the blasted region. Side to side her eyes roam, begging to find some clue that life indeed will return, and finding nothing.
Shivering, she sighs. "How far does it go?"
Viconia responds to the question, taking a moment to recall the details she was given at the time. "Originally, about ten days travel. It has been shrunken back to a mere two days on horseback, now."
Glancing before her, Jewell tries to find hope in that revelation. "This must be near the heart of whatever damaged the area then," she guesses. "Unless it was some sort of fire?" She sniffs the air again.
"It was a very large fire. The man-made fire of the sun itself, among other things."
Her ears suddenly perk. She scents the breezes again. //Odd.// she thinks. //For a moment-//
"Viconia, could it be that it is recovering closer to the center? I thought, just now, that I smelled a fresh-mown field, and reasonably near."
Viconia considers briefly, then shakes her head. "That should not be. Any recovery will be from the outside inward. The center itself will be barren and dead for a long time to come."
The dark elf considers carefully before continuing. "Perhaps we should investigate..CAREFULLY."
Jewell agrees to the caution. "Should we fly? Or walk?" She daintily lifts one hoof to examin the effects of the soot.
The drow turns her head, having momentarily forgotten that she is seeing through Jewell's eyes. Quickly chastening herself, she nods quietly. "Walk, I think. Fewer directions of attack." //Not to mention that my eyes are useless for keeping watch.//
Jewell tries not to feel alarmed at Viconia's reasoning. //Why would _anything_ attack us here? Nothing hunting would come to such a dead place, and certainly there is no reason to be posessive of such a blasted ruin!//
Carefully watching where she places her feet, and keeping her other sences alert for any other dangers, Jewell moves in the direction Viconia indicated was the center of the dead area. Dust rises, hovers, then settles in her wake. She tries not to fidget her wings, a nervous habit she has when grounded for prolonged periods.
"I wonder if the scent has anything to do with the magic you sensed?" she thinks aloud. "Maybe it was something displaced?"
Viconia takes a moment before responding, having herself caught for a moment a whiff of grass and trees. ~That is a possibility. Another possibiliy stems from the fact that Legion utilized a number of intradimensional gates; there may be a passage TO somewhere sitting open.~
The elf shifts slightly. In part, it is her own nervousness; gates aren't things to be meddled with lightly, even by one of her power under normal circumstances. In part, as well, is that Jewell's own nervousness is having an affect.
~In which case, we should probably close it.~
~I trust you have the skill for that, as I certainly don't,~ Jewell points out with a touch of humor in her 'tone'. ~How will we know if we come upon one of the gates? Will we see the other realm?~
~Possibly. Gates are surprisingly individualistic. Usually, I would count on "seeing" the magic involved, but that isn't an option right now. As for closing it, yes, I have closed gates before. However, not being sure what caused this one, may make closing it a bit difficult.~
~Still, the first thing we would have to do is find it.~
With that, the dark elf lapses into silence, as she considers the options for whatever may lay ahead.
Jewell continues to make her way into the blighted land. She keeps alert, testing the air, hoping to scent the grass she had sensed before. She keeps her gait steady, mindful of her passenger.
After a short time Viconia feels the wings suddenly vanish. ~No need to get them dusty,~ Jewell explains, a touch of humor in her thoughts. ~And if anyone sees us, it will seem that we are just a regular rider and horse.~
~Ah. Reasonable enough.~
She is thoughtful for a moment. ~Unless you think the dragons flying overhead would mistake us as prey.~
The drow's response carries a biting humor. ~Not the smart ones. And I don't think the dumb ones would pass over; there isn't anything here for them.~
Viconia's head suddenly snaps to one side, as she sniffs the air. ~To your left, about thirty degrees.~
Jewell smoothly makes the change in direction, less following the spoken word than Viconia's motion. Her ears perk forward and she sniffs as well. Her eyes tell her nothing, and she wonders if Viconia realises how her sharpened sences are compensating for the loss of sight, and how valuable that is currently.
Suddenly, Viconia feels almost overwhelmed. From the dry stench of the Deadlands, there is suddenly a cornucopia of scents. Freshly cut meadow; harvested pumpkin field; forest, and dozens more.
For a moment, her mind is engaged in sorting the bewildering array of information out. Almost missing that sudden, strong sense of magic.
"STOP!!"
Startled, Jewell skids to a halt, stumbling slightly. ~What is it?~ she asks, concerned and nervous, trying to see what the blind woman my have heard or scented.
~A VERY strong field of magic. Almost directly in front of us. Probably the gate. Another couple of steps, and we would have walked into it.~ For a moment, the drow is silent, as she studies the magical eminations.
~I'm....not familiar with this type of gate. Closing it is going to be difficult.~
Jewell says nothing, giving Viconia time to think.
For a long time, the dark elf is silent, as she studies the gate's magical energies, carefully walking about it. While she is blind, except with Jewell's kind help, the magical energy flux is as clear to her as ever.
Finally satisfied, she begins an enchantment of closing. Her voice, strong and sure, belies the butterflies in the pit of her stomach. //This should work, but something feels wrong, somehow...//
Jewell's ears rotate, fascinated by the workings of the spell. She watches the area, alert for signs of change, or trouble.
As the final syllables of the spell sound, the magical energy of the gate collapses in on itself, as it should.
Then, there is a brief, soundless explosion of magical energy, sending the dark elf sprawling.
Jewell lets out a two-pitched cry, one a neigh of fright like any other equine, the other a pure note at b above middle c, perfectly emitted by her horn. Instinctively she bucks and rears, stumbling, and only a small part of her keeps it's sences enough to avoid striking the drow woman.
Sprawling not onto the black ash of Alfandria, but the remains of a pumpkin field...somewhere else.
Jewell's right forehoof lands square into one ripe squash. Spooked by the sudden change of surroundings she rears again and her wings unfold from nowhere, lifting her from the ground.
A blast of icy air instantly brings the gemicon filly back to herself. She quickly lands, seeking out Viconia and freeing her hoof from the pumpkin.
~What happened?~ she asks as she carefully looks the elven woman over for injury. ~Was there a counter-spell? A backlash? A curse?~
Viconia lifts her head up and shakes it vigorously, clearing it even as she reaccustoms herself to looking through someone else's eyes. ~I'm...not sure. Backlash of some sort, I think.~
Carefully, she gets to her feet, taking a moment to examine one of the plucked vines. ~I'm not at all familiar with this plant. I don't know where we are, but we aren't where we were, or anyplace I'm familiar with.~
Jewell scans the area, both for her own sake and Viconia's. ~It seems like a nice, cultivated area. Look, there's an odd-looking building over there,~ she says, pointing out a rigid, white structure.
The dark elf mentally curses her blindness, as the darkness significantly limits Jewell's vision.
Even as they mentally "speak", though, lights begin coming on in the white structure. Now visible are several rectangular openings, covered with an arrangement of wood and mesh of some type.
~Uh, I think we woke someone up...~
~I think you're right.~
Now faintly visible, also, is some sort of metallic object, resting on four cheese wheel like structures. It sits at the beginning of a dirt trail, which disappears into the darkness.
~We may be a while getting home again.~ Inwardly, she chides herself for the simple misjudgement. //You KNOW better then that; if you're not sure of the spell and its effects, clear everybody out. Except you didn't THINK to do it!//
The Gemicon quietly sighs. ~Don't worry. Somehow when I was blown away from the Isle, I knew it would be a while before I saw the valley again. 'Tis the fate of my kind.~
A short distance to the left of the white structure is a somewhat more familiar, dark colored building. A two story wooden structure. The large doors on the front are partially open. Above the doorway is a large pulley arrangement, rigged just above and in front of a large opening on the second floor.
~Well, I personally prefer to have some control over my fate, and I DEFINITELY hate taking people along for the ride.~ The dark elf takes a deep breath, and nearly chokes. ~Ewww. Let's get out of this stuff...it stinks.~
Jewell sniffs the air.
~A lot of this stuff around us is in the process of dying. Some of it is already dead. And it's all in agony. Whoever did the harvesting wasn't gentle.~ Apparently, the dark elf is more aware then she'd like of the surrounding plant life.
The Gemicon nods, impressed by the elf's awareness.
Scanning the area again she spies some relatively familiar animals. ~Cows! It can't be too strange a land. Should be horses here,~ she summizes as she again shifts form, hiding horn and wings.
~Probably so~, Viconia acknowledges.
~Shall we approach the dwelling?~
Viconia's ears wiggle slightly as the sound of a door opening and closing drifts to them on the soft night wind. ~Perhaps they are about to come to us.~
Nervousness assails the young Gemicon. ~Do you think a horse is normal? Should I be something else?~
Viconia leans forward slightly, one hand covering her mouth, stifling a laugh. ~Even if it isn't here, which, as you already pointed out, it probably is, perhaps the more worrysome question is whether *I* am normal....which I suppose we'll find out in a moment.~ Not sure herself, she reaches back and lets her hair down, brushing it so it covers the elven ears.
Before she can do more, the light of a lantern comes around the corner of the building, accompanied by a male voice and the barking of a dog.
"All right, who's out there?"
Jewell's ears rotate towards the sound. ~The accent is odd. Ever heard it before? Are you going to answer, or should I?~
The dark elf considers briefly. ~Probably better that you answer. You sound more...normal then I do.~
~But I don't _look_ like I can talk. Quick, dismount... I have an idea.~ Jewell quietly "kneels" to facilitate silence.
In the meantime, the humanoid figure comes closer, shining the lantern around. "Well, who are you, and what do you want!?" It isn't clear whether he even knows if anyone is there, but he certainly seems to be aware of something odd.
As the challenger approaches, Jewell quickly undergoes change again, this time transforming into a human girl. In the scant light, Viconia makes out lightly tanned cream colored skin, medium length dark hair, and expressive dark eyes. She is wearing a patchwork skirt and a simple shirt, both covered by a volumnuous patchwork robe, and holds a sachel over one shoulder. She quickly digs into the sachel and pulls out another robe, this one a rich, dark cloth, and hands it to Viconia.
Without questioning, she takes the robe and begins pulling it on.
~Your armor may frighten the man,~ she points out.
With her suggestion comes the realization that not ALL parts of the multiverse are normally combative. As she continues pulling on the robe, various weapons begin to, apparently of their own accord, move. Viconia's backpack slips off and hangs in midair, the top open, as her two swords, several daggers, and other obvious weaponry drop into it.
As she finishes pulling on the dark cloth robe, the backpack closes up and comes to rest in her left hand, looking totally innoculous compared to the activities of just a moment ago.
~Better?~
Jewell smiles warmly at her. ~Yes. Thank you.~
Turning in the direction of the approaching landowner, Jewell calls out in a sweet, young voice, "Please! We were trying to find a town or something and got lost! We must have wandered off the road in the darkness."
The glare of the lantern swings in the direction of the voice, washing the two of them with its kerosine light.
Holding out her hands to show she is unarmed, she continues, "My friend and I are tired and sore. Could we please use your barn for the night?"
For a long moment, the light dances across the two of them. Then the man's voice comes again, softer this time. "Well, ma'am, you're WAY off the road. But you don't need to sleep in the barn; I can make room for you on the couch."
He pauses momentarily, then continues, a bit harsher, but not as much as before. "The Nigress has to sleep in the barn, though. Servant or not."
For a brief instant, the drow visibly stiffens, obviously ready to challenge the man's assessment. Then, her entire body appears to submit, the fight disappearing as she nods her head in acknowledgement.
Jewell, feeling uncomfortable with the faint animosity she heard, asks apologetically, "If it's all the same to you, sir, I'd rather not be separated. She's- well, she helps keep me safe, if you know what I mean. I'm content to stay in the barn with her. We won't be any bother."
"Wealllll....I suppose so. Although I don't understand why you'd want to; small thing probably not even 90 pounds, soaking wet."
Jewell smiles charmingly at the man.
Carefully, the lantern is set down in one of the rare patches of cleared earth. "I'll be back with a blanket for you in a few minutes. In the meantime, you can find a spot in the hay to sleep. Don't roust the animals, though, and watch your step."
The dark figure disappears back in the direction of the house.
"Our thanks again, sir!" Jewell calls after him, then turns to contemplate the barn.
Questioningly, Viconia looks at Jewell. ~Thank you....by the way, would you happen to know what a 'Nigress' is? I don't want to probe directly; it's always hard to guess how people in different realities will react to a mental probe.~
The gemicon shakes her head. ~I have no idea, but-- well, he looked at you like folk in my land look at some Shrikon. I don't think it's anything very good, but not quite an insult.~ She stares in the direction of the house. ~We have to be careful for you. I know you can take care of yourself, but if there's something about how you look that upsets them, they could become dangerous.~
~It wouldn't be the first time my appearance has upset people. I'll tread carefully. Although...what is a Shrikon?~
Jewell sighs. ~I'll explain when we're settled.~
Gesturing towards the barn, she says out loud, "Come on. Let's see about our bedding."
The dark elf nods. "Hay isn't the worst thing in the world to sleep on, if you can avoid the bugs..." Picking up the lantern, she leads the way to the weatherbeaten barn.
At the entrance to the barn, Viconia pauses, eying the long unpainted boards, the small holes in the roof, and the general scent of disrepair. ~Perhaps we could earn our keep for a few days by doing repairs...~
The Gemicon looks around herself. ~I think we won't be here _that_ long... and we should be cautious about using magic. I know lands where I come from where it's restricted or even a capital offense. Better wait until we know better.~
Quietly reciting a spell, a gentle greenish cloud settles over the hay, dissipating after just a moment. ~That should take care of the bugs, anyway.~
Jewell sighs. ~Okay, but be careful from now on, even with casual stuff.~
The dark elf grins. ~Hey, nobody is looking. Besides, there are lands where being what I am is a capital offense, too. This place isn't *THAT* bad, at least.~
Pulling off her robe and laying it over the hay, Jewell sits down.
Viconia pulls two large blankets from her pack, laying one over the hay. ~There is room enough for two, if you prefer. Best to keep your robe in good condition, just in case.~
Jewell smiles. "It's just an old rag," she protests lightly, but rolls her robe back up, and settles down next to Viconia.
"About the Shrikon. It goes back to where my people come from. You see, we are all the children of Silverhide Stronghoof, first of the Gemicons. He was created by Justicar, the Keeper of the Rod of Justice amongst the gods, to be that worthy's mount. When Silverhide proved noble and loyal, Justicar granted him his freedom. Silverhide founded our home, The Gemicon Valley, and there he begat our race.
"Justicar was a fair and just keeper of the laws, yet he had his enemies amongst the gods. Midysa, the Keeper of Evil and Dark Creations was jealous of Silverhide, and brought forth from the fires of her hatred the Shrikers. Where my people are kind and gentle the Shrikers are killers without care. They are created as a parody of the Gemicon, having dragon wings rather than feathers, and the same powers, but with a demonic bloodthirst. They are as clever as we and seek our humiliation and destruction."
Drawing her knees to her chest, Jewell shudders. "The Shrikers ravaged our people. They would destroy everything we hold dear if they could. They killed our allies. They slaughtered our bravest souls. They raped our females..."
There is a long pause before Jewell can continue. "Though we can change our form to any living thing, Gemicons can only reproduce with Gemicons. At least that's how it was in the beginning. We learned soon after our first battles with the Shrikers that we were just as fertile with them. Young were born of those horrible encounters."
Glancing over at Viconia, Jewell sighs. "We are children of a god of Good, and the Shrikers are Evil embodied. We are not immune to horror or the fear of what horror leaves behind. When our mares gave birth to creatures that were not Gemicons, we feared them. They did not have our close tie with Silverhide, they did not have the holy blood. They were born colored like ordinary horses. Some had wings of feathers, others like dragons, a few a twisted combination of both. We thought them less than we. Some drove them away, others sheltered them for fear they would take their father's evil ways. We called them Shrikons, for they were of both kinds."
Shaking her head, Jewell fights back feelings of revulsion and shame. "So many have been born. So many have been driven away, killed, or driven mad. They are tempted to the Shrikers by their tempers, but taught that the Shriker within them is to be denied. They are the shame of the Gemicon, for how we have treated them. We have tried to change our ways, to be more just and kind, but the Shrikon are the embodiment of our deepest fear: we are not immune to Evil. It can grow within us."
The dark elf listens attentively to the story, but showing surprisingly little emotion. The story complete, she averts her gaze from the Gemicon, as if embarassed. After a minute of silence, she finally speaks, softly. "Remind me, when we are on the road, to tell you of the Drow."
Jewell gently touches Viconia's arm. "I know of the Drow. They live in my world as well."
With that, she sheds her robe and lays it out neatly, extinguishes the lantern, then slips between the two blankets. "Good night, Jewell."
"Goodnight, Viconia," the gemicon sighs, closing her eyes.
The night passes with surprising speed. Soon, the faint light of pre-dawn is visible to the East, across the cleared fields. The darkness still holds on stubbornly, wearing a cloak of coldness that it donned during the night.
As if to fend off the impending sun, a gentle snow begins to fall. Snow mixed with something else, though, giving it a splotchy look as it gently settles to the ground.
Jewell sits up quietly, watching the snowflakes drift out of one high window in the barn. She listens sharply to the sounds of the cattle and other farm animals. Something doesn't _feel_ right...
Glancing at her companion, she whispers gently, "Viconia, are you awake?"
The thought comes back quickly. ~Haven't you ever heard that elves don't sleep?~
Stretching like a cat, the dark elf rises to a sitting position.
Jewell rises to her feet, turning slowly. Her head is raised, slightly, as if she is trying to catch a scent. "There's... something odd. Can you feel it?"
Without waiting for an answer, she steps carefully to the doors of the barn and looks out. "Maybe it's normal for this land, this world, but..." Her words trail off as she tries to fathom what bothers her.
The dark elf gracefully rises to her feet and follows the human-form Gemicon. One good whiff of the outside air, however, and she backs quickly, a look of horror crossing her face for a moment.
"Jewell....that's the scent of charred flesh."
Jewell recoils as instantly as the drow, her expression echoing her companion's. For a moment she is unable to speak, or even breath.
"Great Father..." she finally manages hoarsely. Then her thoughts turn to their host. "The farmer! Do you think he has been attacked?" She returns to the door and rushes through the ash-contaminated snow towards the house. Her concern is for the life that may be in jeopardy there.
The dark elf follows, her face grim. As she walks through the mixed white and black snow, her twin swords appear in her hands, as Viconia reverts to her usual silver and ebony tones.
Heedless of the change in her companion, Jewell rushes around the side of the house to the entrance, only to find thier host emerging, a tray balanced in one hand.
The old farmer pauses, startled by the panicky look upon Jewell's face and her obvious hurry.
"Oh thank goodness!" she cries out as she hurries up to him. "I was afraid- well..." she hesitates, but turns to indicate the splotchy weather. "I thought there was a fire or something! What is that horrible smell?"
"Smell? Well, I haden't noticed, really, but all this ash indicates a major fire, probably upstate in Chicago. Happens once every so often. Why, my father told me about...GOOD HEAVENS!!!!"
The farmer abruptly drops the tray, grabs Jewell, and nearly heaves her through the still open door, following closely behind as he hurriedly closes it and drops the bar across it.
"Head into the kitchen and down into the cellar! Bolt the door behind you, and don't open it for nobody else!", he yells, as he practically leaps for the shotgun over the fireplace.
Startled, Jewell hesitates. "But my companion! You've locked her out!"
"I don't know what that is out there, but it isn't that Nigger you were travelling with!!"
She hurries back to unbar the door, looking out to see what might have frightened the man so much. Initially, all she sees is Viconia, certainly impressive in her battle finery.
The farmer, meanwhile, grabs the shotgun from over the fireplace, along with a box of shells.
"Oh great Father," Jewell mutters under her breath. ~Viconia! The farmer is unharmed, but I think you have alarmed him! Your arms and armour!~
"GET DOWN TO THE CELLAR, NOW! THERE'S A THING OUT THERE!!" With a slight tremble from the adrenalin rush, he moves up on the doorway, shotgun levelled at whomever, or whatever, might come through, barred or not.
Jewell is not familiar with the weapon the man brandishes, but she is certain she does not want Viconia hurt. "Please! You might hurt my friend!"
~Sheesh.~ In a blur of activity, the weapons disappear, and the guise of the young black female is resumed. For the moment, the armor is covered with an illusion of the robe from the previous night. ~Strange world.~
The gemicon can only agree silently. Out loud she calls, "Hurry up! He says there's something out there that looks dangerous!"
Peering further out, she wonders if all he's been spooked by is Viconia herself. Then she notices an unnatural glimmer in the distance. It is big, and it is moving.
//What is that?//
The disguised dark elf hastens through the doorway as it only begins to open, playing to perfection the part of a scared human. The farmer quickly shepards them through to the kitchen, and then down into a storm cellar. Pausing behind them, he locks and bars the door.
Descending in the darkness, he gently lifts a kerosine lantern off the wall and lights it. "Well, girls, Halloween is one thing, but whatever that was outside was something....else. Something not human."
"She was short...no mistakin' that it was a she. Nice curves, too. But her skin seemed to just absorb all the light. Her eyes...they didn't have no pupils. And she had these two glowing swords."
"I've pulled some Halloween pranks in my time. But that twern't no prank."
Jewell glances at Viconia, her eyes full of unspoken words, but then she secretly winks. Turning a concerned face to the farmer, she speaks tremulously. "Goodness! Sounds like someone gone mad! I wonder if it could have something to do with the fires you spoke of. In Shih-kaw-go? Could it have come from there?"
The farmer slowly nods. "Maybe. Those damn fool scientists may have done something they shouldn't have. Some things....Man wasn't meant to mess with."
Viconia, for her part, remains silent, obviously watchful.
"Like black magic?" Jewell asks, awe in her voice. She notes Viconia's silence, and grows a bit restless.
"That would be one thing", replies the farmer. "But the scientists are always tryin' to figure out everything. Some things we should leave well enough alone; they're the province of God, not Man."
"How long are we going to stay down here?"
The thought comes simply from the dark one. ~It is hard for me to say, not knowing what prompted us down here in the first place. Remember, the cues I have are relatively short ranged...hearing, scent, and so forth. Although....I have a bad feeling....~
Aloud, she speaks softly. "Until our host is convinced the danger is past."
There is a muffled hiss, then a soft, muted hum. Then, the pitiful bellowing of cows, obviously in great agony.
Jewell's eyes grow wide. Suddenly, their hiding makes sense. She shudders and sits down, wrapping her arms around herself. "Oh, Father..." she whispers hoarsely.
Being a Gemicon, and close to the animals, she hears more than senseless bellows. She hears their fear, almost feels their pain.
Then...silence.
An action which Viconia is inclined to join in, as very recognizable scents wafts in from above.
The scents of burned and cooked flesh.
The farmer starts to say something, but is drowned out as the hiss and hum return, much lounder now.
After a moment, even that noise is smothered by a louder sound. The sound of dry wood burning, overhead.
Jewell leaps to her feet. "The house is on fire! We can't stay here, we'll be buried!"
Quietly, the drow reestablishes the aspect of the link allowing her to see through the Gemicon's eyes. //Burning house...wonderful. Something killing the animals outside. What's next?//
Scanning the basement area of the house she spies the cellar doors. "There!" she points to the others, running up the short flight of stairs. Carefully, she lifts half of the door and peers out.
Carefully taking the farmer, the disguised darkling begins urging him toward the cellar doors. "If we stay here, we will surely die. Better to take our chances outside, and at least have one."
A scene of Biblical horror meets Jewell's eyes as she peeks out. The barn is burning fiercely, totally engulfed in flame. Some of the cattle apparently had made it out, only to drop in the snow, severely burned. Over the entire scene, the light mottled snowfall continues, melting as it nears the fires.
Behind the barn, the upper part of a tripod is visible, the chassis for an enormous, silvery shieldlike device. A shieldlike vehicle, apparently, which is moving slowly and deliberately, with surprising ease for its 200 plus feet of height.
Seeing the image through Jewell's eyes, the dark elf swallows hard, and breaks character by murmuring a prayer in her own tongue.
As for the old farmer, he has no idea what lies outside.
Yet.
Suddenly the human form is far too weak and small for Jewell's comfort. It's all she can do to avoid shifting form there and then. //Great Father! What creature of the nether worlds is this?//
Turning back to the farmer, she wonders if this is something he knows.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the farmer has not yet seen all of this. He is valiantly resisting the shapechanged dark elf's attempts to move him up the stairs. "This is stone construction...we can ride the fire out down here!"
Viconia, for all her love of the underground, is having none of that. "Except for suffocation from lack of oxygen. We have to move, NOW."
Facing the attacking metal monstrosity, she scans the farm area. With both buildings ablaze, all that is left is the wide, flat open fields. No safe cover at all. Their only hope was to outrun the thing, but how could they do that unless Jewell herself changed form?
~I'm going to have to change,~ she warns Viconia silently. With a deep breath she climbs out of the cellar. ~I'm not sure how he is going to take that.~
~Nor do I. But we will deal with it, however is necessary. If all else fails, we can explain it later, when he wakes up.~
Jewell nods, understanding.
Once she is free of the doors, the gemicon casts a wary eye at the looming construct, and wills the change. A moment later she stands in her true skin, her wings lowered to assist Viconia and the farmer in mounting.
~Get him up here, quick!~
As the farmer is still resisting, the dark elf, typically, takes the most straightforward route. Allowing her disguise to drop, she bodily lifts him in her arms.
As she runs up the stairs and across the short distance to the Gemicon, the farmer's initial sputtering about the rough handeling is silenced by the view of the tripod war machine.
"What...what the hell IS that?"
~Sorry, this may hurt a little.~ Not sparing the breath to answer, Viconia quite literally plants the old man on the Gemicon, mounting behind him.
Jewell jerks a bit when the heavy man lands on her back, but steadies herself quickly. She waits for Viconia's signal of readiness.
"GO!!"
Less than a hearbeat later, Jewell tosses her head and bursts into full gallop, first trying to circle the house and keep it between the metal beast and the small, fleeing group. With sure hoofbeats she races into the fields, half of her mind on her steps, the other half on seeking shelter from the attacking creature. She longs to leap into flight, but fears that would make the three of them easier to target.
//Run, run, run, run!// burns into her mind in an instinctual level. //Silverhide, protect us!//
At first, there is no indication that the tripod has noticed the fleeing trio. Nonetheless, the dark elf is busy, casting protective spells upon the Gemicon and the group as a whole. That she could manage this, on the back of a galloping animal, is a tribute to her skill.
Then, slowly at first, the tripod begins to move. In their direction.
~Jewell, I think it noticed us. Try airborne now...the spells I've set in place should hold off its attacks.~ The unspoken thought, of course, is that nothing is guaranteed.
Without vocal, mental or even physical reply Jewell stretches out her wings and leaps. With a few powerful wingbeats they are into the air. She stays low, hoping to confound the eyes of whatever the steel beasts are guided by.
~Where?~ is the only communication that passes to the Drow.
The dark elf feels an immeasureably enormous, but momentary, pressure as of the creature's heat beams strikes dead on. Thankfully, the magic proves its worth, dissipating and negating the effects.
The fire at her back seems to drive the Gemicon harder, as if something about the heat drives her adrenalin higher.
~East sounds good. If it's moving southward, it should get us off the track. If not, then ANYPLACE BUT HERE is good right now.~
Jewell cannot agree any more. She dips her wing, turning slightly, then begins weaving back and forth as she makes for the direction suggested. The monster behind her cannot know what terror it is building within her.
As for the old farmer, he finally begins to emerge from shock. His farm burning, his home burning, his being grabbed by this nonhuman humanoid and thrust on the back of a talking winged unicorn....all of this has done a good job of leaving him stunned.
"Uh...what the hell IS that?"
~Hold him TIGHT!~ the gemicon warns unecessarily. She dips again, weaving, avoiding another bright beam of fire, sparing Viconia's protection spells from another test. The flaring light blasting past her side still startles her and she feels her heart leap.
//Shriker!// her mind tries to convince her. She knows that isn't so, but her body reacts anyhow, drawing on hidden reserves of strength to bring her into an incredible burst of speed.
Gemicon, elf and human become, momentarily, a colorful streak in the sky. It lasts only a few heartbeats before the battery is drained and the gemicon resumes a more reasonable speed. The monster is well behind, perhaps three kilometers or so. Moments after, against every bit of her will, the gemicon starts to loose altitude... the power for the burst of speed having been from her own body, now depleted.
~Viconia...~ she mind-speaks weakly, a warning as she nears the ground.
Realizing what is coming, Viconia temporarily stuns the farmer, then turns her attention to the more immediate plight. Applying her own innate capabilities to slow the rate of descent, she quickly begins to weave a spell to slow the rate of fall further.
She simply isn't sure if she has enough time to finish it, as the ground is coming up very quickly, nonetheless. ~Jewell, I need a few more seconds....~
With the last of her remaining strength, Jewell frantically backwings, twisting slightly to avoid a rapidly nearing tree. She catches a glimps of a flat, smooth stretch of land to one side, but cannot reach it in time. The grassy hill draws nearer.
As they twist in midair, Viconia finishes the spell. For a brief instant, she isn't sure that the casting is successful. Then, with relief, she feels the effects kick in, as their rate of fall slows, literally, to that of a feather.
Relieved, Jewell still manages to fumble the landing. More concerned with her riders than the placement of her feet, one hoof falls into a small hole. Startled, Jewell lurches forward, spilling everyone to the ground. Uttering a shrill cry of pain, the gemicon falls to her side.
The dark elf pulls a midair twist, ending up with a sharp exhalation of air as she cushion's the unconscious farmer's landing with her own body.
A moment later she shifts her form back into a human girl. Her left arm is bent oddly, and quickly beginning to swell.
Gently rolling the farmer off of her, Viconia quickly checks herself for injuries. For the moment navigationally lost in her own darkness, the spill leaving her without any relationships to judge by.
~Viconia!~ she whimpers mentally, pulling the injured limb to her chest.
~Jewell, relax. Don't move it, don't put any weight on it. But I need you to either look at me, or say something. At the moment, I'm a bit lost.~
Being in human form helps fight off equine instincts, but Jewell first glances at the unconscious farmer. Then she manages to face the drow woman. "I'm over here," she gasps.
Carefully, the dark elf moves over to the injured Gemicon, trying to disregard the odd sensation of moving by watching from afar. ~He's okay; I temporary knocked him out on the way down so I wouldn't be trying to work magic AND dealing with him struggling.~
With tenderness surprising to those who have dealt with her, she moves her hands along Jewell's skin, checking for other injuries before she finally reaches the left arm. ~Your left arm is broken, badly~, her surprisingly comforting mental voice comes, ~although everything else seems to be okay except for a lot of bruising. Pretty good, under the circumstances~
~Do you have any problem with my using magic to fix it?~
Shuddering from the pain, Jewell shakes her head. "No," she says aloud, hoarsely. "I don't. Please."
Quietly nodding, the dark elf begins chanting a quiet prayer as her hands gently run back and forth over the injured arm.
Trying not to pass out, the gemicon concentrates instead on listening for sounds of persuit. She can hear, distantly, the metallic movements of the behemoth, but it does not seem to approach.
The pain quickly eases for the Gemicon, even as Viconia bites her lip from the acquired pain.
"I think we lost the beast," she murmurs.
The drow nods, as the spell begins to work. Magical energy flows through her, as the now pain-deadened arm begins to shift back into proper alignment. In a few minutes, the arm is as good as new.
~There. All better?~
The Gemicon's reply is lost, as Viconia pitches forward. Staggering behind her is the old farmer, a large rock in hand.
Jewell catches the falling elf, her eyes wide with surprise.
"You okay, lady? I think this...THING...was going to hurt you."
Gently cradling Viconia and lowering her to the ground, Jewell looks at the man with reproach. "What have you done? She saved our lives!"
The old farmer looks at her with evident surprise. "SAVED us? She laid me out cold, lady, through some trick in my head."
"YOU were beginning to panic. We HAD to save you, like it or not!"
Inspecting the injury and listening for Viconia's heart, Jewell is releaved to find that the drow still lives. The wound, however, concerns her.
"You could have killed her!" she chastises the farmer, though her voice does not rise.
The old man ruefully shakes his head. "I wish. In my younger days, maybe, but I'm too old and feeble to do that now. I don't understand, though...how do you mean she saved us, when she laid me out cold?"
Wishing she had the healing kiss of the colzar of her world, Jewell brushes away the congealing blood gently. "You were seeing her as the threat, not the monsters that were the real danger. We didn't have time to fight both you and the marauding beast. You took no real hurt, I promise you. I would not let her do that," the young female says quietly.
"Now, please, a moment undisturbed."
Ignoring any further protest, Jewell bows herself down over Viconia. Her long fingers, crowned with pearl white nails, hover over the injury. After a moment the hand begins to tremble. Jewell's breath comes in gasps of concentration.
Nothing happens.
Her eyes snapping open, the Gemicon looks at the seeping injury in surprise. Holding Viconia steady she draws a short, bright silver knife from a sheef at her leg, under her patchwork skirt. After a quick kiss to the pristine blade, she presses it's flat against the wound carefully. The blade seems to shimmer and glow for the briefests of moments. Jewell hisses for a half a breath.
When she pulls the knife away, the wound is healed, though a small white scar remains. There is no blood on the blade.
"Viconia," she murmurs. "Wake up please."
For a long minute, there seems to be no response to the Gemicon's question. Then, slowly, the dark elf's eyes open.
Slowly, one hand comes up, feeling the back of her head where the scar is slowly healing.
Only then does she speak, and then haltingly. "Jewell?"
Jewell releases her breath, only then realizing she had been holding it. She nods with a relieved look on her face. "Yes, it's okay. Ongoing misunderstanding with our host."
Still holding the stricken drow in her lap, Jewell looks up at the farmer. "Please, try to understand. Yes, she is dangerous to look upon, but she is my _friend_ and protector. She isn't going to hurt _you_. She helped _save_ you. Something is going on and I don't think it's normal for your homeland? Unless giant metal creatures are commonplace?"
The old farmer shakes his head. "I have to admit, giant metal critters aren't exactly normal. But then, neither is she."
The drow closes her eyes for a moment, muttering something in her own tongue. <
Still sounding weak, she continues in the local language. "So, what have I missed. Obviously, not the large rock."
Jewell smiles gently at Viconia. "Not much, for the moment." She looks back at the farmer. "That monster back there was throwing out some sort of fire, I think. The scent in the air... it's much too strong for your animals to be the source! Is there a town or a village nearby? It may have attacked there first! Who is your Lord? Where can we go to get help?"
For the moment, the drow opts to do something quite against her normal behavior, and which she hasn't done in over a millennia. Viconia simply allows her head to rest in Jewell's comforting embrace, listening as her head gradually stops spinning. Strangely, there is a certain pleasure in, for once, not bearing the burden.
As for the farmer, he looks confused for a moment before he answers. "Lord? Oh, you're thinking Europe. We don't HAVE Lords here. We do have a Governor, though. He's down in Springfield. Nearest town, though, to the farm is Mount Carmel, on the Indiana border. About eight miles east of us, I think. Springfield, that's a long ways...can't say I've every actually been there."
"The Governor would be the one in charge of your protectors? Militia? Soldiers? But so far..." Jewell sighs. "I fear these monsters will destroy many before help might come."
Leaning down to Viconia she whispers, "The powers of the Great Father flow slowly here. Are your magics weakened as well?"
The dark elf considers for a moment, still a little foggy from the rock, then smiles slightly. "My dear", she responds as quietly, "in order to survive outside my original birthland, I had to take certain...radical steps. I generate my own magical energy from sunlight. So, to answer your question, no, not in that way. However, dealing with technological monsters...my magic does tend to be negated. So, I don't know for sure if it will work or not."
The answer is not very reassuring. "We will find a way. Weaknesses can reveal strengths."
Jewell looks back up at the farmer. "You know this land best. With such invaders, where would you go? Where will you go?"
For a moment, the old farmer scratches his chin, thinking. Finally, in a unhurried way, he answers. "Well, normally, the first place I'd head would be the tornado shelter. Given we're already away from there, and it wouldn't have worked anyhow, I'd suggest Evansville. They have telephones there, and we can call the authorities for help."
The gemicon girl nods. She looks closely at the farmer. "We should head there then." She hesitates a moment. "I can get us there, if you won't panic at what I do."
The old man looks at the girl carefully, then at the dark elf, still laying there with her head in the girl's lap. "I suppose I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
Carefully sitting up, the dark elf slowly stretches her limbs, in a manner vaguely reminiscent of a cat. "No, you don't", she quietly notes.
Jewell nods and looks down at Viconia. "Are you ready to go?" she asks softly.
The surface drow smiles slightly. "Whether I am or not, we have to go, don't we?" Still moving with care, she gets to her feet. "I seem to be fit to travel, though."
Standing, she moves a step or two away from the drow and the human. In a heartbeat thereafter the girl is once again gone, and the magnificent animal, equine with horn and wings, stands before them.
"Sir," she says politely. "I hope you can ride."
The farmer steps back a quick step, his face betraying the shock of the abrupt transformation. Then, he walks once, twice, thrice about the incredible creature.
Viconia, her head cocked slightly to one side, listens intently. Finally, she softly says "Perhaps you could save the examination for later? Time is a little pressing." Nodding, the farmer carefully moves up to Jewell's side, carefully mounting in a way that, by its simple style, both shows his long experience and betrays his age. Hesitatingly, he finally speaks. "I just never expected to run into something I dreamed of, that's all...."
Moving quickly, the dark elf settles in behind the old man, adjusting his position slightly to make room for herself. "Anytime you're ready, Jewell." Tapping him on the shoulder lightly, she continues, "which way is this place?"
"'bout 40 miles South of here, slightly to the east if you're flying, I suppose. It sits on a big river; you can't miss it."
Jewell nods her understanding with an exaggerated raising and lowering of her head. With a few swift and smooth leaping paces she is in the air. It takes her only a few moments to orient herself, and they are rapidly on their way.
As she flies, the gemicon watches the scenery around them for signs of the metal monster. The scent of flames and burnt flesh is still strong to her. In the distance she sees a bright flash, familiar now. Relieved, she notes it is not in the direction they are going.
The flight is easy, though the winds whip around them, stirred by unnatural forces at work. Jewell spies the great river first, and then the town the farmer spoke of. Though their mission is urgent, Jewell considers the farmer's reaction to her true form and decides to find a landing outside of the village. Circling, she finds a long, narrow stretch of dark and smooth land.
As her feet touch down, Jewell discovers the surface is hard, like stone, and reeks of oils. She quickly steps aside onto a gravel path beside the road.
"Everyone off," she says politely.
Viconia quickly and quietly slides off with practiced ease, then helps the old farmer off.
Moving back toward the surface Jewell landed on initially, she kneels down, carefully examing the surface by both touch and scent. "Some sort of petroleum derivative, but feels like a granular cement of some sort. A little soft."
The old bachelor shakes his head. "It's called asphalt. You act like you've never seen it before."
In a hearbeat, Jewell is the simple human female again. "You've never seen anything like me before... does it surprise you that we are unfamiliar with your world?" she asks him gently.
The old bachelor farmer considers for a moment. "I suppose it shouldn't."
The dark elf listens intently for a moment, then stands up, combing her hair quickly to cover her distinctive ears. "Some thing is coming. I hear multiple low growling noises."
He turns and looks at her oddly for a moment, then chuckles softly. "Probably the National Guard, or something like that. This is one of the major highways, after all. Perhaps we should flag them down."
//National Guard?// Jewell turns her eyes down the black stretch of road. //An organized police force maybe?//
The drow turns her head toward the farmer, listening to him as he speaks. Her response, however, is swift, as her head jerks back and forth. "No, not yet. Not until we know what mood they're in."
Turning her head further, her sightless eyes come to the now human gemicon. Viconia hesitates for a moment, as the strangeness of seeing herself through someone else's eyes yields a multitude of thoughts. Then, closing the lid on THAT particular Pandora's Box, she continues. "What do you think, Jewell?"
The gemicon nods. "I think that's wise, considering the good farmer's response to you. Yet, I am curious to see how this National Guard has prepared themselves. Mayhap our kind elder friend here might signal one and confer? He, unlike you and I, would be less conspicuous. What do you think, sir?"
The bachelor farmer considers for a moment, then swallows hard. The confusion on his face is evident; he still isn't totally sure of the intentions of these folks, but they certainly aren't the ones that burned his farm to the ground, either.
At least, he hopes not.
"Well.......I reck'n we can give it a try. Worst they can do is shoot me, and I'm an old coot anyway."
The surface drow nods in agreement. "Then best we disappear quickly; it won't be long."
Jewell nods, glancing around. Deciding on a mounded area of grass, she leads Viconia away from the road, with an encouraging smile for the farmer.
For a split instant, the surface drow resists; then, with an almost sad smile, she allows Jewell to guide her where the gemicon wishes to go.
Hidden behind a hillock, the gemicon/girl lies down on her stomach, watching the approaching convoy from between the grasses. Her hand reaches out to take the Drow's. She feels anxious, but not overly concerned.
For her own part, the Drow is somewhat uneasy with the situation, but tries to put a brave face upon it. The continued physical contact, however, is starting to make this difficult; the sharing of Jewell's vision tends to encourage other mental activity to cross as well, such as thoughts and emotions.
//They are but humans. Should there be any trouble, I could help him easily,// she reminds herself. Her eyes scan the horizon for signs of the maurauding monsters. //Unless...//
~Never underestimate the hazard of humans, especially in large groups. They tend to act first on blind emotion, and only later possibly begin to think.~
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