G
Guest
Guest
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<div align="center"><font color="#FF0000" size=6>Undying Love</font></div> </td> </tr> <tr valign="top"> <td> </td> <td> <div><font color="#FFFFFF">
<font color="FFFFFF">hour was late, as Otto ascended the sturdy ladder that lead to his pigeon coop for the last time that day.
It was a normal part of his end of day routine, to ensure that all matters were closed for the day, and that he knew all that would await him on the morrow.
Perfectly routine. </p>
<font color="FFFFFF"> However, this time, the messenger pigeons seemed agitated, as he ascended. Instead of the normal soft coo-ing, they were restless, and making odd squeeking sounds now and then.
An air of fear could be felt in the pigeon coop - and there was another sound there, too, barely discernable.
Otto stopped, and listened carefully, his hearing enhanced by years without sight.
There it was again - a leathery sound, wings far stronger than any pigeon, flapping above the coop.
Otto half turned, to lull whatever it was into a false sense of security - and then swung back, as the sound came closer, hurling his thick cloak over whatever it was!
Hurrying downwards, he called to his scribe, holding the writhing bundle in his cloak, strange screams coming from within!
The scribe hurridly shoved the bundle into a spare pigeon cage, and from the cloth crawled a small black bat, eyes ablaze like red coals.
It hissed angrily at the humans, and then moved to the front of the cage, and extended a claw.
Tied to it, was a scroll.
"'tis in braille, Milord." said the small scribe, nervously removing it from the offered claw.
Otto took the scroll, and read.
</p>
<font color="FFFFFF"> "Bring me a fresh cloak, scribe, and see that this creature is released! See to it that the stablemaid has my beetle ready! I must journey to the shire!"
"But, milord, 'tis late at night! What can be so urgent?"
"Later. Now hurry! Hurry!"
And with that, Otto rode off into the night, his fire beetle blazing a trail through the night.
</p>
<font color="FFFFFF"> The scribe turned to the note, and read the braille carefully. "Dear Otto,
I must ask a favor of thee, for old time's sake.
I ask that ye waste no time, but take this letter to my family, my friends, those in Wispwood shire, so that they may share in my joy."
</td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td><font color="#FF0000" size="4">
the citizens of Wispwood
Courtesy of Lord Grot
My darling family, it has been many months since I last spoke with you. Many things have changed, and I trust that my words will not meet with hatred from those who have loved and been loved by me for so many years. Seems my friendship with the vampires so long ago, met with an end that should have been expected but not suprising. I am that what we fought side by side together. Funny that I would find happiness by being a vampire, but I have. You are still all my family, without you I would have been nothing, so please be happy for me...and for who I have chosen. I will contact you all soon....
</font> </td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td><font color="#FFFFFF">
</p>
<font color="FFFFFF"> She drew a deep breath, and looked out into the night, the blazing trail of the fire beetle disappearing in the direction of Wispwood Shire.
And there, in the night sky above it, glowed two small red coals...
</p> </font></div> </td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td> </td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td> </td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td> </td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td><font color="#FFFFFF">
their breathless arival in the shire, Otto's beetle reared up in fright, as a small dark object with glowing eyes plumetted from the dark heavens, straight towards it.
The blind man was flung from it's saddle, landing on the hard ground nearby.
As he lay there, the wind knocked from his body, he seemed to sense a cold presence in front of him.
And then, a voice spoke, sending further chills through him. A voice familiar, and yet not.
"So, she has chosen you as her messenger. Her taste, as ever, is faultless. They will listen to you.
With that, a small pouch was tossed onto Otto's chest, and the presence faded.
Otto staggered to his feet, and calmed his beetle.
After stabling the nervous creature, he sought out Lord Grot's house, where he relayed the earlier note, and together, they examined the contents of the pouch.
</p>
<font color="FFFFFF"> In the pouch, was another letter, which read: </td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td><font color="#FF0000" size="5">
Grot,
I am scribing this note to inform you that I have the Lady Katharine of the Shire, and there is little if nothing you can do about it, Mortal.
We now share a bond... and very soon that bond will be strengthened creating a Power that even the Damned will look upon and smile. Should you attempt to prevent this unholy event from occurring, be warned, the Citizens of Wispwood and its Allies shall be smite down in a bloody whirlwind of unmerciful punishment.
Prepare yourselves... this bond will bring the Damned one step closer to clensing these lands of the Infidels.
Elg'cahl
</font> </td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td> </td> </tr> <td> </td> </tr> </table> </div> </font>
It was a normal part of his end of day routine, to ensure that all matters were closed for the day, and that he knew all that would await him on the morrow.
Perfectly routine. </p>
<font color="FFFFFF"> However, this time, the messenger pigeons seemed agitated, as he ascended. Instead of the normal soft coo-ing, they were restless, and making odd squeeking sounds now and then.
An air of fear could be felt in the pigeon coop - and there was another sound there, too, barely discernable.
Otto stopped, and listened carefully, his hearing enhanced by years without sight.
There it was again - a leathery sound, wings far stronger than any pigeon, flapping above the coop.
Otto half turned, to lull whatever it was into a false sense of security - and then swung back, as the sound came closer, hurling his thick cloak over whatever it was!
Hurrying downwards, he called to his scribe, holding the writhing bundle in his cloak, strange screams coming from within!
The scribe hurridly shoved the bundle into a spare pigeon cage, and from the cloth crawled a small black bat, eyes ablaze like red coals.
It hissed angrily at the humans, and then moved to the front of the cage, and extended a claw.
Tied to it, was a scroll.
"'tis in braille, Milord." said the small scribe, nervously removing it from the offered claw.
Otto took the scroll, and read.
</p>
<font color="FFFFFF"> "Bring me a fresh cloak, scribe, and see that this creature is released! See to it that the stablemaid has my beetle ready! I must journey to the shire!"
"But, milord, 'tis late at night! What can be so urgent?"
"Later. Now hurry! Hurry!"
And with that, Otto rode off into the night, his fire beetle blazing a trail through the night.
</p>
<font color="FFFFFF"> The scribe turned to the note, and read the braille carefully. "Dear Otto,
I must ask a favor of thee, for old time's sake.
I ask that ye waste no time, but take this letter to my family, my friends, those in Wispwood shire, so that they may share in my joy."
</td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td><font color="#FF0000" size="4">
Courtesy of Lord Grot
My darling family, it has been many months since I last spoke with you. Many things have changed, and I trust that my words will not meet with hatred from those who have loved and been loved by me for so many years. Seems my friendship with the vampires so long ago, met with an end that should have been expected but not suprising. I am that what we fought side by side together. Funny that I would find happiness by being a vampire, but I have. You are still all my family, without you I would have been nothing, so please be happy for me...and for who I have chosen. I will contact you all soon....
</p>
<font color="FFFFFF"> She drew a deep breath, and looked out into the night, the blazing trail of the fire beetle disappearing in the direction of Wispwood Shire.
And there, in the night sky above it, glowed two small red coals...
</p> </font></div> </td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td> </td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td> </td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td> </td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td><font color="#FFFFFF">
The blind man was flung from it's saddle, landing on the hard ground nearby.
As he lay there, the wind knocked from his body, he seemed to sense a cold presence in front of him.
And then, a voice spoke, sending further chills through him. A voice familiar, and yet not.
"So, she has chosen you as her messenger. Her taste, as ever, is faultless. They will listen to you.
With that, a small pouch was tossed onto Otto's chest, and the presence faded.
Otto staggered to his feet, and calmed his beetle.
After stabling the nervous creature, he sought out Lord Grot's house, where he relayed the earlier note, and together, they examined the contents of the pouch.
</p>
<font color="FFFFFF"> In the pouch, was another letter, which read: </td> </tr> <tr> <td> </td> <td><font color="#FF0000" size="5">
I am scribing this note to inform you that I have the Lady Katharine of the Shire, and there is little if nothing you can do about it, Mortal.
We now share a bond... and very soon that bond will be strengthened creating a Power that even the Damned will look upon and smile. Should you attempt to prevent this unholy event from occurring, be warned, the Citizens of Wispwood and its Allies shall be smite down in a bloody whirlwind of unmerciful punishment.
Prepare yourselves... this bond will bring the Damned one step closer to clensing these lands of the Infidels.
Elg'cahl