| From: | ANGLISS@***.PSU.EDU |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Part 2 of the decryption... |
| Date: | Thu, 31 Mar 1994 01:45:31 -0500 |
*****Include TNO Trid feed, Decrypted and hijacked*****
A short spat of static and seemingly random data from the instants before the
decryption program actually started to work on the feed, and it's begun again.
Val, dressed in white under black and joined by three four others similarly
clothed and one not even close to similarly clothed, is approaching the crest
of the hill of Tara. He turns to Hermit and opens the case. As you watch,
Val removes one of the most beautiful instruments you have ever seen. If you
like lyres, of course. It is oak, with silver inlay. It looks hand-carved and
antique. And if you didn't know better, you'd guess that the strings are
orichalcum--braided. And he holds it before him and begins to play.
The music...how to describe it. Perhaps "haunting" is the best term, but
beautiful, and terrible, and even depressing fit it as well. And the notes and
scales and chords are wonderfully discordant in a way that is magical and
alluring. You suspect that even the soldiers, over a half a km away, can hear
the magical music as Valentine plays for an audience only he knows and
understands. Perhaps it is his way of saying goodbye, or of showing his
resignation to fate and death, or of denying his clan victory. It is all of
these things, and more. And Valentine plays for 15 minutes, capturing the
attention of all for the entire time, before ending it as it seems to fade off
into the background and the life of the world around it. And even the
stones seem to mourn its passing....
Until a voice is heard, in Sperethiel: "You have honored this place with your
music, and we are grateful. State your buisness so we may be on our way."
The voice itself is lilting, definately feminine, and bodyless.
And in Gaelic, Val says: "I wish to conduct myself and this in Gaelic, the
ancient language."
"Of course. Gaelic it is."
"Thank you. I come before the Hill of Kings to issue a Challenge."
"What do you know of the challenges of the people of Tir na n'Og?"
"As Lugh came before the gatekeeper of Tara before the war on the Fomorians,
so too do I come before the gatekeeper to issue my Challenge. As Lugh did,
so too do I claim the use of Champions to gain my admission. And as He did, so
too do I acknowledge that the final challenge is mine and mine alone. Before
the Liagh Fal, the Stone of the Kings that Ogma cast through the walls of Tara
and Lugh returned to its rightful place, I claim the right of Challenge."
"Do you have your Champions, and are they prepared?"
"I have chosen them, and they know of the dangers to themselves."
"Is this true, Streetwolf?"
"It is, Lady Deigh."
"Is this true, Stormfalcon?"
"It is, Lady Deigh."
"Is this true, oh cloaked and hidden one, Hermit and Kahn and more?"
And with a solomn bow of his head, Hermit says: "It is, My Lady."
"Then proceed with the Issuance."
Valentine: "Thank you, my Lady."
Little Dragon pulls a glass flask from his belt, and then a second one, and
holds them out for Val to take. Valentine takes the first one, opens it, and
pours its contents into the center of the black silk, saying "And the purity
of water cleanses and rebirth comes." Then he removes his sickle from his
belt where it had been almost hidden by the mantle, turns to the other three
and nods. STREETWOLF, first in line, holds out his hand to the sickle. And
the blade, sharp and deadly if used as a weapon, pricks his palm, drawing a
single drop of blood that is absorbed by the silk. And with Stormfalcon and
Hermit Val does the same, waiting after the deeds are finished for Morgan, the
only "uninvolved" person to heal thier hands. He then opens up his robe and
cuts open his chest, followed by his forehead. His blood flows freely into
the silk for about a minute until Morgan heals him. And not a single drop was
missed or stains his robes. Turning again to Little Dragon, he takes the e
second flask and adds it to the silk as well, saying "By the blood of our
lives, this Challenge is issued." He turns to Morgan, who concentrates for an
instant and the silk begins to smoulder. Then, as instantly as it can, the
black silk square bursts into flame around Val's hands, purifying it totally.
"My Lady, I come before you to Issue my Challenge. My intention is to remove
myself from my Clan and family, O'Kennedy. I have decided to do this so that
I may live in peace for my days, so that those I love as my own will never
again fear for themselves or for me."
"You know what you ask. State your name, and call your Champions."
"I am Patrick John O'Kennedy. And I call upon STREETWOLF as my Champion."
"So begins the Challenge. Step forward, Streetwolf, and face your Trials.
You face Strength, Combat, and Pain. You must win 2 of 3 or else the Challenge
fails."
As STREETWOLF steps forward, he says: "I understand, my Lady."
STREETWOLF, removing the cloak again, prepares himself for his Trial. After
about 5 minutes of waiting, a large set of bodybuilding weights appears and
he begins. And while he seems to be doing well, it appears that there is a
minumum weight that he must successfully lift to pass the trial. He fails it.
Then a large cage is brought up the hill. Within it is hidden something,
something dangerous and obviously large. And STREETWOLF is motioned to join
it in the cage. When the partition is removed, it is revealed to be a Wyrd
Mantis, a human sized paranormal insect. Magically resistant, and difficult to
see under the best of situations, it is hungry. And STREETWOLF must kill it.
The mana begins to fly off his fingertips, but very little seems to be
affecting it. And all the while it closes with him, trying to touch him, to
corner him. Finally, somehow, STREETWOLF finds a weakness and the mantis seems
to explode. But he is tired from all the spell drain, and must succeed in the
final Trial.
And it is Pain. He is lain out on the grass about 5 minutes later, staked as
if to leave him there to die from exposure. But he will not be so lucky as to
go so far. Magic is brought to bear, along with the physical tortures of
chains and whips and needles. Yet very little happens...until his focus is
lost and an overstimulation spell penetrates his mental barriers to cause
injury. His face begins to turn red, his teeth grind together, and his muscles
begin to spasm. And the odds are terribly stacked against him, yet he does not
cry out for any of the pain. STREETWOLF has succeeded, and he is sent off to
Morgan and the Druid healers who have joined the large group of supporting
magicians for the Challenge.
"Stormfalcon, you are next. You face the trials of Skill, Knowledge, and
the Future."
Quietly, Stormfalcon steps forward and faces Skill. He is beset with a weapon,
totally disassembled but within his skill, that he has never seen nor knows the
use of. And he must reassemble it and test it without it killing him. He
finds all the traps and charges and fake parts and gradually, over an hour, it
takes on the form of a rifle. Then, a sniping rifle. Then a morph-seeking
rifle. And when tested, it works without blowing up and killing him as it
should.
And the Trial of Knowledge comes, based in History. But again they have tried
to make the trial difficult. But this time they have succeeded, as it is
TNO history that he must show his expertise in. Ancient history, of the
Touatha de Danaan, the Celts, and the early Christians he successfully navigates, but the
new world order and recent events in the world of TNO...well, his
limited interest costs him a win.
Finally, The Future is set. A simple game, 16 peices per player on a board
of 64 alternating color squares. The chessboard; battleground of the mind and
only the military master will come out of it winning. And Stormfalcon is
Black, playing to Stalemate. But he wins! The second Champion has won as
well.
*****End Trideo Feed****
Sorry, but we're taking the system off-line temporarily for some down
time. We'll finish this later.]<<<<<
-- Moriarity(01:47:32/03-31-55)
dir newmail
