Quests
As soon as one does enter, a magical feeling does envelop them. The wind rustles gently, bringing the quiet whicker of a rare unicorn. Would she appear to you, bringing the mighty mythic fairy, or will you be forced to bask in the shadows?
Quests will be announced by a faerie on the board (and sometimes, but not always, on the OOC board). Please do not ask for a quest.
The faerie responsible for your quest will tell you whether or not any traits/defects you earn will be 'genetic' (allowed to be included in breeding posts).
Then I am Nothing...
IP: 4.156.255.185
Posted on September 20, 2007 at 10:28:09 AM by Elijah
Elijah approached the gate of Ivory, and almost at once it shivered into life and began to speak. So old, so querulous the gate sounded. A voice housing all the infirmities of age and none of the strengths. Still, the situation demanded respect, and though he was the second to approach, it had spoken to him. I am Elijah. More than that, he felt, neither the gate nor the beast cared about, and so he left it at his name.
But the voice strengthened, hardened, and the old stallion came to know that this, now, was the voice of the beast who had called the gates into existence, and he smiled. What was put to Elijah now was a riddle, a thing of logic – and Elijah thought on it. His time for thought was short, for he recalled the Tundra, and almost blandly he replied, A fresh nights snow covering the stump of an ancient tree. Snow fell freshly day and night in the Tundra giving everything around a fresh ‘day old’ face. The tree in the riddle had long ago grown up and aged and died, now only receiving a new ‘head’ with the snows. Elijah felt a pang run through him as he thought of how many years he himself had passed. When would death come to him? What would give him that ‘fresh’ face when he finally succumbed?
But now the beast-in-the-gate was asking something far more serious, what would he, Elijah, give to pass beyond? The aged stallion thought back on the things that shaped his life: his birth to a mother who gestationally starved herself, a twisted colt named Atrox torturing him in the Playground – that was where Elijah first realized that physical ability meant nothing to him, where he first realized that he had a mind that was sharper than most. He remembered his recruitment to the Tundra, his lessons with Taure – learning how to read both the spoken and the unspoken, how to model his face, manner, and speech to let only the knowledge he wished show through. He remembered the war with the Valley, the failure of No Crosses Count, the death of Taure, the succeeding rise and fall of so many kings. He was there for attempts at a great university, and for the decline of the Tundra. He remembered a mare named Darking, a son – Elisha – his only child.
What could he give to the gate? Flesh, blood and bone meant little to him – with every season the aches and pains only worsened. The beast-in-the-gate could have his death, caging the stallion in an eternally aging body, never to have that moment of his final rest. But that did not seem to be important enough to the white stallion. His defining strength was his mind, he had learned to analyze all he saw, assess it and understand it. He had learned to teach others to do as he did. His mind had never failed him, and he had never stopped learning. The thought that this might leave him forever sent a thrill of genuine fear along his spine. He snorted, this was an emotion he didn’t think he had ever felt, even as a suckling colt.
He raised his eyes to the gate, to the one eyed beast. is this what you want? he wondered. He was sure the beast could read more of what was inside him than he let on. Terms were terms, though, and he must give up what he had to give.You know, I think, that which you want as a ‘gift’. So, I offer that thing which I think defines me the most, the thing I most fear to lose…Intelligence. Mindfulness. Knowledge. There are many words for it, but it is yours.
He did not know if such a thing would be gone forever, or how he would hope to pass any challenge along the way without it, but give it up he must or never move forward along his chosen path.
(ooc) bah, this was difficult to write because abercrombie got to my idea of memory first so I had to do something else…/cry also, sorry if it is rambling, I got into a groove..
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