Welcome to Vastwind Tavern. People of ALL races are invited!

Having no luck with sleep at all she would come down the stairs from her room with little Lee in her arms. Both having had nightmares for the last few nights made it nearly imposable for them to sleep. Little Lee being very grumpy and irritable much like his mother would be holding on to her neck with his little legs around her waist. Seeing the tavern was busy she would make her way to a empty booth in the back she really did not care what she looked like to the rest of them. In fact in her own mind they are just people and nothing more. She would nod to the clones of Szalor and keeps walking. Reaching the booth in the darkness of the tavern the dim lighting helped out a lot because both her and lees eyes are very sensitive now. She would sit down with him and holds him in her lap as she rocks a little to sooth him and to get him back to sleep. Her heart rate would be slower then normal her blood pressure would almost to high from the events of the past few nights. She would take notice of the elven mother and child feeling there pain of not being able to find something in her own heart she hoped that she finds what she is looking for. She would whisper to her little son Lee.

"Please my son just relax enjoy the sights and sounds let your mind drift free from the night terrors with in take your self to a place of sweetness and things that bring you joy and slumber here in my arms that hold you with nothing but love."

The rays from the morning sun shine through her window and onto her sleeping face. She slowly moves her arm up to shield the brightness and opens her eyes. She realizes that she is lying down instead of the usual sitting position she was almost always in. She couldn't help but smile, she felt as if she were just married or had just met the love of her life for the very first time as she did when she was only a teen. Her body was wrapped in the sheets, the blanket was pulled up to her chin. She looks over to the chair, the pillow she had last night was lying on the seat. A puzzled look comes to her head. How did she get to the bed? She didn't wake up the night before, so . . . how? She smiled as she smells the scent of her husband and child, but . . no . . that couldn't be and she closes her eyes to push the thought away. Her heart says they were there, and yet so does her body. Her mind tells her to be rational, that it is only memory that is tricking her heart and body. The dead just simply do not return, . . . not that way. She dresses and prepares herself for the day, putting away the thought of her dream, though the words of her love filled her ears as did his kisses filled her face. She went down the corridor into the bar with a strange smile upon her face. Not even the mask seemed to be on her face, though it was quite visible. Her hair was pulled loosely back and tied in the way that her husband always loved. Her hat was tilted back slightly, the usual shadow gone from her face. She walks over to the bar and waits patiently for the tender to take her order.

Getting one of the images of the owner to tend to him, he watched the 'tender' as he began to mix a wide varriety of liquids into one of the multi-colored glasses. Not watching what the tender was doing, he began to look around the establishment rather lazily. Noticing the two women with kids, wondering where their mates or husbands were at, he began to feel a bit lonely himself. Losing his wife so long ago, yet unable to truly forget, he knew how messed up things had actually gotten. And then letting Kat seduce him...

Shaking his head, he sat back, watching the image of Szalor place the fantsy smoking drink before him. Not saying anything, he placed a silver coin down on the counter and downed the drink. His eyes went wide as the liquid hit the back of his throat and into his stomach. It was something else. His body began to shiver at the coldness of the drink. He was a fire demon. Of course something cold would mess with him.

Jumping up, he began to shake violently. His fingertips began to go cold. His inner heat began to rise to combat the cold, yet seemed to be failing. What essences did the image put into the drink? Not even his angelic powers could combat the drink.

"Crap!"

She smiles as one of the images of the bartender came over to "tend" her order. She ordered eggs, bacon and toast with strawberry jam. She didn't know why she was hungry, nor could she explain her sudden happiness. She pays for her meal and drink and watches the people around her. She smiles at the women with their children, absently placing her hand on her stomach. She remembered when her son was a baby and how much joy he brought her and her husband.
Out of the corner of her eye, she notices something different about one of the patrons. His eyes widen and reacts strangely to something he drank. Her face changes to one of seriousness as she reaches for the sword on the left side of her belt. Was there to be a challenge that needed to be settled? Or would the madness end as quickly as it had started? She hated to be one to mess up an establishment without need. She continues to watch with caution and hoped she would not have to draw.

Suddenly he falls to his knees. His inner power struggles with the feeling of the drink within his body. Being now poison, his seals would not save him. Perhaps he had asked for something too dangerous for his system. As he placed his hand down, a suddenly ice sheet appear around his body. He jumped up, his body screaming out in pain as he moved so fast.

"Damn it. Me and my big mouth," he coughed, ice shards falling from his lips. He placed his hand over his mouth, icicles dripping from between his fingers.

Closing his eyes, he had to think quickly on how to save himself from this drink. His body was starting to freeze from the inside out. Smirking slightly, he stood straight up.

"Molecular deconstruction!" he shouted, placing his free hand upon his stomach. Suddenly his violet aura appeared upon him, flashing brightly as it had appeared. His concentration upon the spell at hand, he began to slowly sway back and forth, the ice upon him rapidly melting. Slowly he brought his hand away from his stomach, the liquid he had drank slowly potruding from his body, following his hand as if it was a magnet.

At long last the full liquid from the glass was floating just inches above his hand. His breathing was hard, yet there was a smile upon face.

"Maybe," he looked over the image, "a drink that won't kill me would be in order."

He turned to the women in the booths and bowed slightly, "Forgive me. I hope no one was hurt or scared."

Slipping into the tavern almost unnoticed she was hoping to find the peace in here. Having the return from a dangerous place was something that makes you to want for something quite, sadly she seemed to bump into a dramatic view. A strange blond man was laying on te ground and fighting with the ice that seemed to be wanting to get him.Poor thing...had been poisoned? she whispered to herself, secretly adoring his beauty. She smiled just lightly stopping nearby Skyler and reached her delicate hand out to him to help him up. Are you ok, sir? I'm leaving and here's no order... she chuckled almost jokingly. Joyce would grasp Skyler's hand, pull him up carefully supporting carefully and helps him to sit down. Seems you need now a warming drink. Joyce winked lightly, quickly walked to behind the bar counter and out of nothing created a cocktail that would heat him up then slides the glass to him.Here. My treat. she said. Her brown eyes searching the tavern for Szalor carefully wondering if he got angry that she came so late or not.

Sees the man fall to the ground and realizes that there is something wrong. Her mouth drops open as the ice particles fall from his lips and drip through his fingers. She starts to rush over to him and is stopped by the woman's presence. She stands in the shadows, her emerald eyes shining behind her mask. Her hand still rests on the hilt of her sword. She watches with wonder as the man says a spell and the liquid leaves his body through his skin. What power is this? Why would someone poison one here? She has seen many things, but never watched someone be poisoned. She watches the woman take his hand and help him up, not sure what to think. She is glad that he is better, but her mind races as to why he was attacked in such a way. When he apologizes to the women of the room, she tilts her head in a nod and her hat is brought down. She pulls from the satchel her money purse and pays the tender for her meal and drink. Drawing her trench closer, she walks past the man and out the door. She stops just outside and leans against the wall, staring at the moon.

Not wanting to be rude, he let the woman help him to the seat and bring him a drink. Vanishing the liquid he had taken out of his body, he looked up at the woman. Taking a small breath, he goes wide eyed. She smelled of home. Was she just at the Stone Kingdom? No, that wouldn't be a wise thing for her to go too. But, not wanting to intrude, he just sat there and took the drink.

As he got his drink, he felt the presence of the woman in the mask walk by him. He hadn't lost his eye. He saw that her hand went right to her sword when he had gotten up. Some people were just more skiddish then others.

Taking the new drink, he downed it, instantly feeling the fire reignite within him. Though no heat could be considered 'hot' for him, he did enjoy the warming feeling since the ice drink almost caused alot of damage to him. He wasn't upset with the image for the drink. Far from it. The drink was a nice reminder that he could be killed if consuming something wrong. And he did ask for something strong that wasn't poison. So he wouldn't say anything about almost being turned into an icicle.

Sighing slightly, he got up and walked out. Turning to the woman once he got outside, he smiled slightly.

"You have good instincts. I'm impressed. No one else would have even thought about reaching for a blade." Turning to her, he held out his hand, "I am sorry for ruining your good mood. I could tell by your aura that you were happy. I'm Skyler. But everyone calls me Sky."

Leans against the wall, hearing the noisy din of the patrons inside and the two babies crying. She holds back the tears of her memories because that was all she had now. No more rituals, no more worries. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees that the man who was poisoned walking out. She tilts her hat forward, shadowing her face, her expression serious and yet blank as she waits to see what he may want. She turns, her right hand hovering over the hilt of her sword on her left hip. As he speaks to her, her eyes are narrowed under her mask. She softens as he apologizes and stretches out his hand. She removes her hand from the hilt and takes his hand with her hand and shakes his hand. "Happiness is only momentarily. It is not a state of mind nor a lasting effect. You may call me Darque." She thought, perhaps, that if he was worthy, he would know her first name and have the priviledge to call her that. But for now, Darque was all he would get.

Shaking her hand lightly, his second sight was able to peirce through her mask she wore. She was young, and rather beautiful, yet the tears upon her face did speak volumes to himself. What was it that she had lost? He wouldn't invade her mind to find such answers, for that would just be rude.

Lightly removing his hand from hers, he leaned up against the wall and smiled slightly. "Sky, meet Darque, Darque meet Sky. Darque, Sky." He chuckled lightly, amazed he could easily amuse himself.

"I'm sorry. I hope I am not disturbing you."

AS soon as he lets go of her hand, she returns to her spot, leaning against the wall. She smiles slightly at his small introduction. When he mentions his disturbing her, she raises her gloved hand. "No, there is not disturbance when there is nothing to disturb. So, you were poisoned? What happened in there?" Her voice becomes tense as it struck a cord and she didn't understand why. Somehow, she could feel the sickness he had earlier felt and then to see the liquid leave his body and just hover in his hands . . .that was something else.

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly, "Poisoned? Hardly. And if I was, I clearly asked for it." Looking up at the night sky, he couldn't help but stare at the full crystal blue moon, it's image reflecting in his emerald green eyes. "I asked for the strongest non alcoholic drink. I can't drink alcohol, for my poison ward destroys it before it enters my system. Rather handy for when I go to diplomatic meetings. Someone always tries to poison the royalty."

He looked back over to her, looking her up and down. It was nice to see they had the same fashion sense. All black. But he didn't wear a mask. And if he wanted too, he could be wearing his shadow cloak to cover himself. He also had no visible weapons upon his person. Not that he couldn't summon them.

Seeing how his shadow clones were acting towards the two women and the lycan back in the red light district, he couldn't help but shake his head.

"Damn shadows. Give them emotions and they go wild with them." He sighed, "If you want something done, you gotta do it yourself. I hope my boy is alright being back home." He looked at her, "You have any kids?"

As she listens, the word 'royalty' is said. Could he be a king? If so, then she must pay respect for someone much higher than she. She turns towards him, bowing her head, her raven black hair falling over her face and kneeling before him. "If you are royalty, then forgive my imputence and ignorance." Of course, how was she to know? She was not from around here and he did not wear a crown or anything that would indicate otherwise.
When she stands up, she sees him looking her up and down. She was glad that her mask covered her flush that suddenly come over her face. She hears mention of clones, wondering if he was just like the bartender inside or possibly related.
Her head jerks up when he mentions children and she becomes quiet and reserved. She does nothing but sit down with her back against the wall. There are small bushes along side the tavern, but she had found a spot that was bare of any plants and thus a perfect place to sit, if one did not mind the dirt. Her emerald eyes glimmer with tears. Her voice is stiffened, "One" was all she could say and then she stares at the horizon, watching the moon begin its journey across the sky.

He blinked, watching her bow to him. Now that was embarrassing. Though he was a prince, he never held true to his title. He never liked anyone bowing to him, unless they were an enemy in defeat. He frowned slightly, shaking his head.

"Please, Darque, don't bow to me. I didn't mean to have you do that. We aren't even in my parent's kingdom. I don't hold the title outside of my family lands. I am just Skyler. No one should bow to me unless they are broken by my power, and that is only if they are an enemy of mine."

Leaning against the building, he heard how much her voice had changed. He was a quick man, his mind connecting the dots rapidly as to how she was reacting, the situation around them, and the mentioning of things. She had lost that 'one', this he could feel from just her words. He didn't even have to penetrate her mask to know this.

Taking a deep breath, he looked down at her, "I am so sorry. I have two sons, identical twin boys who no longer are identical." He looked up at the moon, fighting back the memories that were trying to flood his eyes. "I lost my wife when they were born. It isn't easy losing someone you love. And I can't imagine losing a child. I'd probably do something horrific if I lost either of my boys."

At the thought of being a possible enemy, Darque shudders inwardly. She is glad that he does not consider her and nods in acknowledgement of his request. At the mention of losing his wife to bearing his children, she looks down. Her entire family was gone . . . at least he had his two sons. She pulled from her satchel at her waist a small leather pouch, turning it in her hands. "This is all I have left of my family. Two locks of beautiful raven black hair, free of blood. . . " Her voice trails off at the last part. That day was still like yesterday, even though she promised him last night she would stop and let them go. She had let them go, but it did not mean she would not forget. She stands up and dusts herself off, putting the pouch back into the satchel. "Well, Sir Sky, where would you like to go or what would you like to do?" She was trying to start a new life, one that was not full of darkness or sadness and this seemed like a good enough place to start.

Watching her, listening to her sadness, he couldn't help but feel bad about bringing up family. So she had lost two violently. That was tragic. What was worse was that he had the power to bring them back using his ability to reconstuct a body using their DNA, which she had in her pouch. But with no souls, the bodies would be empty shells, or worse, completely different from the original if spirits did attract to them. No, he wouldn't give her hope in telling her this about him. Losing someone you loved once was bad enough, losing them completely was another horrible thing.

Holding up his hand slightly, he shook his head. "Just Sky please. I am not worthy of any title. I have no earned anything given to me, save for my skills, and only cause my parents forced me to train every day."

Looking around slightly, he smiled, "Well, I was walking to clear my mind. Ran into someone that needed my help, and now I have a clone, who is not acting like a good representative for me, watching the group. And then I showed up here to wash my memories away. That almost ended up turning me into an icicle. I guess I'm just having bad luck picking things to do. How about I let the lady," he bowed his head to her, "choose what we do together."

Looking at his face and trying to read the thoughts that showed through his expression, she could tell he was thinking about a lot. Whatever it is, he could not help her in the way that he wished to. She smiles and motions towards the lake. "Perhaps we may continue to walk as you have many thoughts to clear. I do not ask for anything, just simple talk and company. You may tell me more of yourself, if you would like. I need the fresh air as the air in my room is . . . dead." She lingers on the thought a little while before sighing and then holding up her arm, offering.

Nodding slightly, he offered his arm for her to take. "A walk by the lake does sound like a good idea. Even though water is my natural opposite, it can still relax me."

(moving to the lake shore)

Looks at his arm, then takes it with hers as they move towards the lake shore. The moon's rays relaxed her as it led them down their path.

Szalor had no chance and no will. He had no life and no presence. The last of his power was left to the illusions as he lay on the floor near the room of the Darque woman. He could not breathe nor think. His mind was blank having spent the power and energy of his body in helping the Darque woman. His point was past exhaustion and his mind had given up on the better things. He simply lay there in silence with no one to help him. Down the corridor behind the bar he lay. His death was eminent and his heart stopped. The slow beat turned to nothing as his eyes became lost and blank. He whispered slightly the name of the girl whom he had befriended and became gone to the world of Val'Daria. His thoughts became displacement along the threads of existence and he drifted into the hole that was Oblivion. He could not retract from the events that were happening because his power had been used too much. His body kept moving by sole will and psionics alone. Now, though, he was dieing and the illusions all disappeared. No longer could he hold their form in this world. He was becoming lost to the Material Plane. He could only let a soft tear roll from his eye knowing that he would not hear the sweet voice of Joyce, nor could he help the despondent Darque any longer. He had enjoyed her smile and knew it to be a smile long needed. He drifted from the realms and into a dark place where he assumed the Abberations known as Elan would go. Something seemed sinister here though, in this darkness. Something seemed to want his existence. It pulled at him and groaned his name. He wanted to get away, but he suddenly realized this was the gateway for the dead going to Hell. He accepted the fate he had made for himself in the Ripper murders and the creature pulled him into itself laughing maniacally.

Thought it was a new day, tending to the customers forgotten by Skyler who gave attention to some stranger woman who she already saw before, Joyce felt that the last trip to Stone kingdom had taken some of her energy. But there was something more than that. Joyce seemed to feel a strong tug upon her heart so painful that it caused a single tear to roll down her cheek. And the glass of crimson liquid she was drinking had slipped off her hand shuttering on the floor. The sound echoed in her mind. Joyce knew something bad happened. Szalor... she whispered. The bad sense seemed to grasp her throat making it hard to breath. She would so go to panic but knew she can't give into fear and that overwhelming sense of helplessness. Joyce was immediately at the side of her beloved Szalor. His body was there, still, but it was almost lifeless. Szalor...you can't leave..not like this.. she whispered. Another tear fell down. Entire world, the surroundings and people faded away as only him mattered to her now. I will not you to slip away. Just hold onto me... she kept whispering. Her hands sliding to gently caress him and around him to hold so lovingly and protectively as if all world would be wanting his death.

Unseeingly she became to glow. The light as of angel but more in a pale silver light. As if lit by moonlight. Hecate....I'll need your assisstence. Don't take him away. Lead me to where he is. Guide me, let me find him and lead us safely out.He belongs to the living world. she whispered in a language long forgotten in earth. She knew that the goddess who is her mentor, who always helps her will never leave her. She saved her in Stone kingdom from demon, she will guide and guard her in the world of coldest darkness. A sign of tripple moon glows faintly upon her forehead. Joyce felt as she began slowly to slip away herself. Feeling the touch of Hecate she felt safe. Szalor. Hear my voice....feel the warmth....see the golden light of life.. she whispered and taking deep breath opened her brown eyes to the darkness where she felt completely blind but unable to see. Her physical body at this moment went to unusual coma as her astral self wandered off to search for her Beloved.

Szalor floated there in the Oblivion halfway between life and Hell. He was apparently preordained to go to Hell. He knew his mother-in-law in his human life had something to do with this trip. That woman was never satisfied with him or the things he did. He was glad he was on his way to Hell instead or going to see her. He shook from the dilapidated memory. He stood there in the darkness finally turning to see his Beloved coming towards him. He realizes that he is still moving slowly toward Hell like it's quicksand, but seeing her makes his heart flutter like a bird. He realized that she was walking away from him and try as he might he could not scream to garner her attention. He desperately continued to try and scream. Nothing came out, though, and his heart practically sank into the depths of the darkness. The Abyss opened up wide for him and perhaps it meant to make him a home in this pit of fire and forgotten mistakes. Whatever was the driving force behind his fall; he was mere seconds from being enveloped and mere seconds from being irretrievable.

(We are moving now off to Hell for a while until we both we will be free. Then we will post here again. Meanwhile if you wish you may try to bring us back but we have our own plans. )

Coming up to the tavern, the figure slows down and brings her white stallion to the tie bar. After tying the horse to the bar, Silver reaches out with her right hand and pushes open the large old oak door with much ease. Standing in the doorway, the moon gleams over Silver's silver rose on the back of her midnight blue cloak. Her hood is shadowing her face and a few locks of silver hair fly freely. She takes a step in and glances about the room. The room is rather quiet with the coming night, yet a couple women with children are in the room trying to have a simple meal while keeping calm with the night. She steadily walks across the floor and takes her place behind the bar, looking on the shelves, in the cupboards below the bar and then finally on top of the bar for the note with her instructions. Reading the note, she nods as if there was someone there to notice and leaves the bar momentarily. She goes down the corridor where she sees two doors. The door on the left had a strange feel to it and the one just across from it is a simple closet door. Looking down at the floor, Silver shakes her head. Reaching into her satchel at her hip, Silver pulls out a handful of blue rose petals and drops them to the floor. she smiles as the purple aura disappears. She goes into the closet and sees a uniform. Pulling it out, she wipes the dust off the garment and examines it. The shirt was a bit low, but the dress would look fine with the shirt she already had. She stole into the small room to change, straightening her hair and looking presentable for the pubic, she grabs her cloak and pants and puts them into a wad. She brings her belongings out to the front of the tavern with her and sets herself up behind the bar. Her skin is very fair and pale, her lavender eyes seem to giggle as she looks about the room, sizing it iup . . so to speak. Her lips were soft, yet pouty on the bottom, and her hair was neatly braided and in a small updo bun. Her pointed ears reach about midway on her head and have intricate detail along the edges of the lobes. In matching blue color is a blue rose on the back of her neck.
Grabbing the dishcloth, she wets it and begins to wipe the bar down as she waits for someone to need her.