[Mkguild] "Open Doors" -- It's story time!

[Chris]

-----Original Message-----
From: mkguild-bounces at lists.integral.org
[mailto:mkguild-bounces at lists.integral.org] On Behalf Of Kendo Virmir
Sent: Friday, March 16, 2007 6:58 PM
To: MKGuild at lists.integral.org
Subject: [Mkguild] "Open Doors" -- It's story time!

Hello!

Thanks to all the support I got with my previous post, I've been
inspired to write a bit more. :)

I'm pleased to present my third little MK forray.  The first part is a
slightly improved version of the dream sequence I posted a while back.
 The rest is all new.  Comments and criticism are very much welcome
and appreciated.

Hope you enjoy!


>>I DID!!


----

"Open Doors"
A Metamor Tale
by Virmir


I had the oddest of dreams last night.

Murky darkness surrounded me.  All was indistinct except for a lone
figure.  He was crystal clear.  It was me, as I appear here now in
Metamor.  Both a gray furred fox and a child.  But he wasn't me, not
as I am now at least, for he was also a child in mind.  He ran towards
me brandishing a simple wooden toy sword, boyishly swinging it through
the air.

"Let's play!  Let's play!"

His voice echoed as he spoke.  I remember that sword.  I played with
it quite a bit when I was a young.  Alone in the woods, I beat back
imaginary hordes of goblins, imps, and the like.  I never really had
anyone to play with.

In contrast to the child that resembled me, I was my normal human
self, how I was before the curses of Metamor and my own bumblings with
transformational spells.  Though I had no interest in playing with
children, I found that I also had a toy sword in my right hand.  So
just to humor the vulpine child, I parried his fake blow and lightly
tapped his wooden blade with my own.

"He he he he!" he giggled in delight, playfully blocking and striking
back.  Like me, he was no where near skilled with a blade, but it
certainly did not slow him down.  I found myself smiling at his
antics, and mine as well, as he had managed to break through my shoddy
defenses and lightly tap my legs a few times.

After a short time sword fighting, he dropped down on all fours and he
was simply a sliver furred fox, waging his black-tipped tail
excitedly.  There was no spectacular transformation, but rather it was
like the most natural thing in the world.  He was larger than a kit,
yet smaller than an adult, a lanky young adolescent.

"Let's play!  Let's play!"

Now he had a stick in his mouth.  (Perhaps the wooded sword had
transformed into the stick?) And he plopped this down at my feet, his
tail swishing to and fro.  Do foxes play even play fetch?  I tossed
the stick and he went for it, giggling excitedly.  He returned it with
a run that resembled a series of excited bounds.  I threw it again and
again.

At some point, he was bipedal again, and we mock fought some more with
the wooden swords.  Then he was fully a fox once more, and we played
fetch.  This continued back and forth.

I eventually realized I was no longer human, but I had become what I
am here now in Metamor and this fox child's identical twin.  Still we
played.  Back and forth with the sword fighting, then the fetching,
and so on.

Then somehow I was alone, but not really.  It was like the two of us
merged, and my mind was not my own.  I was fully a child both in body
and mind then, blissfully swinging my toy sword around without a care
in the world.  As a child, I loved my tail, my ears, and my fur.  They
were who I was, and I simply loved being.  I joyously twirled the
wooden blade around, reveling in the excitement of imagination.

I was not alone for long, for my replacement playmate was none other
than my grandfather.  I chased after him in childish glee.  He was
impossible to catch.  He seemed to fly backwards, his feet hovering
above the ground, his blinding white robes with their crimson flared
trimming flapping in the wind.  Then he waved his hand and I fell
forward, running on all fours.  I was entirely a fox, just as he had
done to me when we met so many years ago.

Then it was my turn to fetch, and I did so with utmost enthusiasm.
Chasing the stick as it flew through the air was the most exciting and
satisfying thing in the world.  And once I had taken the precious wood
in my teeth, I returned it as quickly as possible so that I might
experience it one more time.

The dream became foggy beyond that point.  There was no
startled-wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night.  I didn't even remember
it until a few hours after breaking fast.  I never put too much
thought into dreams, as they are generally a tangled mess of random
subconscious thoughts and other nonsense.  Degrading as it was though,
I did find my mood brightened just by thinking about it.  I thought I
would write it down so that I might remember it years from now.



>>Creepy dream!



----

Lady Vale wondered just how much farther she had to walk.  Even after
all these years, she still wasn't quite used to allowing some spirit
guide her to her destination.  It seemed especially difficult for her
to find a place she'd never been to before.  Yet this was only a minor
annoyance, a little inconvenience that occasionally brought a smile to
her canine muzzle.  The twisting halls of Metamor were nothing like
the cold halls back home.

Home.  There was a thought that never failed to chill her heart. But
every time that feeling emerged, the question came with it: Was it
really worth it?  She shook the thought out of her head.  She would
not deal with that now.


>>Now there is a lot of history behind that phrase. Makes me wonder what
her home had been like.




A moment later she turned a corner and began down a dark stone hallway
with a suit of armor affixed to the wall at the end.  She remembered
she was told to look out for such a piece and breathed a sigh of
relief, realizing she had finally made it to her destination.  Why
would Kyia place Virmir off in such a dark, lonely corner of the keep?


>>Kyia doesn't like him!



Virmir was an... interesting fellow.  The gray fox was apparently
serving in the patrol as some sort of punishment, though she did not
know the reason.  It was a good thing Vincent didn't know, or he would
never hear the end of it.  Virmir seemed a competent mage, and he was
by far the most professional member of the squad.  He seemed a tad
reserved though, and Vale hoped it was not because he felt
uncomfortable, as Vincent and Rufus could make others feel.  But it
was her fault she was so distracted these past few weeks.  She hoped
she didn't come off as being too cold or stern.  If she did, she
intended to correct that right now.

The dhole morph gave the door a few good knocks as her bushy black
tail swayed behind her.  On the third knock the door opened slightly
with a creak.  Ears pointed forward, she stuck her pointed nose
through the crack as she gently pushed it open.

"Hello?"

"STOP!!"

Vale froze, one foot paw in the air.  Though she had released the
latch, the door continued to swing until it was fully open, creaking
all the way.  Her jaw dropped as she tried to comprehend what she saw.

All of the furniture in Virmir's room save the bed was pushed  up
tightly against the walls.  The table was overturned, the book case
turned sideways and resting atop the dresser.  Covering the entirety
of the stone floor was a mangled mess of white chalk lines.  Circles
and chevrons and twisting patterns of all shapes and sizes.  It was
madness.  As if an entire classroom of young children had successfully
raided their instructor's chalk reserves and then proceeded to have
the time of their lives.

Sprawled out on all fours in the center of the room was Virmir,
wearing only a pair of black pants that seemed too large for him.  He
was delicately balanced over several designs he had drawn on the
ground, his feet and hands placed awkwardly on tiny patches of ground
that were free from the white lines, his right claw clenching a tiny
stub of chalk.  The silver furred fox's eyes were wide and his teeth
clenched.  Both his ears and tail stood straight up, as did the
ruffled fur on his back.

"Do.  Not.  Step.  On.  The.  Lines... please..."

Vale looked down and saw that her suspended foot was hovering mere
inches above an intricate set of runes scribbled right in front of the
doorway.  She proceeded to take a step back, securely planting both
feet in the hallway.

"... Sorry..." she breathed out slowly.

Virmir's black nose was smeared with the white powder as if he'd been
scratching it with his drawing hand.  In fact, his entire body was
covered with random splotches of white dust, including the very tip of
his tail.  He looked absolutely ridiculous, and Vale could not help
but try to cover her muzzle as she smiled.

"What are... you doing?"

Virmir seemed slightly less tense now that Vale had backed off, but
his voice was strained, as he still held the uncomfortable position.

"I'm... working on a spell."

Well that was obvious.  Vale had heard of such magic done with chalk
lines, though she knew nothing about it.  There were areas in the Keep
set aside for such things.

"What sort of spell?"

"It's... a personal matter."

The dhole decided not to pursue the issue further, as the fox was
clearly irritated.  This was not how she intended this meeting to go
at all.  She struggled for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.
 Virmir finally broke the silence.

"Can I help you?"

Vale clasped her claws before her, trying to maintain a professional
demeanor.


>>Misha would be laughing hysterically at this point if he was there.




"Well Virmir, I was wondering if you'd like to join us at the Deaf
Mule tonight.  I'd like to go over some things for tomorrow."

It was of course a ruse.  She was loosing control of her squad.
Everything especially began to fall apart since Henri's death.  They
desperately needed to learn how to work together... herself included.
Maybe if she could get them all talking...

Virmir took a moment to respond, his ears slowly drooping and folding
back.

"This is my day off."

"Yes, I know.  This is totally optional.  But it won't take long at
all.  Don't worry, the drinks are on me."

Her voice raised hopefully on the last part, her tail hooking upwards
as she smiled.

The silver fox's eyes narrowed slightly.



>>Small question - Here you call him a silver fox but earlier you call
him a gray fox. Which is it? Is he a silver phase, gray fox?





"Very well."

"Great.  I'll see you at sunset, then."

She took a step back before pointing at the open door.

"Should I--?"

"NO."

----

My door latch is apparently broken.

Lady Vale nearly walked in on a rather complex symphony I had
constructed on my floor.  Although it would have been mildly amusing
to see what would have happened to her had she triggered the
transformational runes intended for myself, it could have potentially
gotten very messy with me in the room as well...  Thankfully, I was
able to stop her.

Then she had the gall to "invite" me to some run down tavern to talk
about what we needed to do the next day.  Why?  We do the same blasted
thing every single day!  And on my one day off in the entire week!



>>He is such an arrogant little fox! A wonderful character.




And I accepted!  I have no idea why I did that.  Perhaps I was trying
to be rid of her as quickly as possible.  Oh confound it all!

This truly is a prison.  I thought I would use my one day off to go
searching for my grandfather's notes.  But they wouldn't let me out of
the blasted keep!  Though it hadn't rained since I dropped them, I
fear the worst if we get more than a drizzle.  My leather sack isn't
waterproof.  Clouds covered the sky this morning, and I fear I do not
have much time left before I lose them forever.  I suppose my only
remaining option is to trick the squad into patrolling over in that
area.  It shouldn't be too difficult to do.

I then thought to past the time and keep my mind off of the notes I
would see if I could find that blasted library once more.  I gave up
after an hour.  I hate this castle.

My last resort for the day was an attempt at reversing my curse.
Metamor had made me a child.  It still made me panic to think that I
may never be able to undo this.  But that spell must wait for another
time.  The fur, tail, and claws, these were my own doing.  To be
honest, I didn't mind them so much.  In the past I enjoyed it each
time I changed myself into a fox.  But the sudden loss of ability to
change back drove me mad.  I thought I would make one last attempt at
restoring my humanity with my dwindling free time.

Without my notes, I had to rely on larger chains of inelegant runes
that took up more floor space than I planned for.  Some five hours and
one interruption later, I had constructed the largest gaggle of runes
I've ever drawn without a reference.  Some even went up the walls, and
I had to construct extra lines just to shift the power correctly up
the right angle.

It wasn't exactly a curse removal.  More like a human transformation
spell, with enough multipliers to triple the effect.  Plus a doubly
enforced time limit.  The way my spells had been working, I thought it
best not to take any chances.  So this would be only temporary.  But
it was going to work.  I knew it.



>>You think he would have learned by now to beware of transformation
spells and the curse. Some people just have to learn the hard way!




Kneeling in the center circle, I shut my eyes and felt the power flow
over my body as I activated the symphony.  I could feel a million pins
and needles pricking my skin under my fur.  It was working!
Experiencing the expected disorientation, I fell forward and caught
myself with my hands.  I waited for the spell to end and the effects
to cease before opening my eyes...

Triumph!  At last!

But then I realized I was looking at two silver furred paws.  Not
hands, or even clawed hands...

I stood up on four legs, tripping over my ill fitting pants.  Perking
my ears and bending around, I saw that I had somehow turned myself
completely into a fox.

Oh blasting confound it all!  All of it!!  Why?!  How?!  This is
impossible!!  None of this makes any sense!

Why does this keep happening to me?!?!

Blast! Blast! Blaaasst!!!

With a mighty wag of my tail, I threw my breeches across the room.  I
then proceeded to try to smash the piece of chalk with my paws.
Failing at that, I took it in my mouth and crunched it a few times.
After spitting the vile powder out, I turned my attention to the sack
of spare chalk on the other side of the room.  I took the tiny bag in
my front teeth and shook it back and forth violently, sending the
contents flying and breaking against the walls.  Next was the bed.  I
leapt on top and bit down on the covers, ripping, tearing, and
shaking.  After a minute's work I was finally satisfied with the
number of ribbons I had made.  Turning around a few times, I curled up
as tightly as possible and went to sleep.

Many hours passed and it was dark when I was awoken by a splash of
light and my creaking door.

"Virmir...?"

It was Lady Vale.  Again.  Am I to be denied even a nap?

Then I remembered the meeting that I agreed to attend at the tavern.
I had obviously missed it completely.  Oh, confound it all...

"Is that... you?"

She slowly stepped into the dark room.  Still an animal and lying in
the middle of my shredded bed sheets, I picked my head up and regarded
her with flattened ears.  I suppose if my cheeks were capable, they
would have been blushing.  It was... a rather awkward situation.

"Are you all right?"

Unable to speak, I simply nodded.  Oh, blast it!

She kneeled down next to the bed so that she was eye-level with me.  I
must have shrunken quite a bit because she seemed very large.

"Can you change back?"

Metamorians changed to half animals by the keep were able to change
completely into animals and back to their half animal forms at will.
This was an ability I did not have.  Fearing that something like this
might happen, I was careful to weave the spell so that it would wear
off by morning.  At least I hopped so... I simply nodded 'yes' again.

By now she was eyeing the room, still in disarray.  I doubted she
could see through the darkness as well as me with her canine eyes.
She waited a moment, apparently expecting me to transform back just
then.  I simply averted my gaze.

"Are you sure you're okay?  Do you need me to get a mage?"

I shook my head 'no' vigorously.  The last thing I needed was some
senile kook in my business.  Almost as much as I needed her in my
business.  Blast it.


>>He is so full of himself! I love it.



She looked at me with concerned eyes for a bit more.  Then she did
something totally unexpected.  She extended her right claw, hesitating
for a second.  I drew away slightly, pressing my left ear closer to my
skull.  Then she placed her hand on top of my head and stroked down my
neck three times.  I could feel her nails sliding through my fine
thick fur.

She pet me!


>Is it pet or petted?



She actually had the nerve to pet me!  I couldn't believe it!  Who did
she think she was?!

She drew her hand back, the side of her muzzle curling up slightly in
a sly smile.

"I'm sorry.  You're just so adorable."

Adorable?! Oh confound it all!

She stood up and frowned momentarily as she regarded the pads of her
hand, now covered with a fine white dust.  Wiping it off on the side
of her breaches she smiled and nodded.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning then.  Good night, Virmir."

I didn't respond.  She turned and strode out the door, shutting it
behind her and leaving me in the dark.

I simply fell on my side and smacked the bedding with my tail in
frustration.  Ugh.

The spell gradually wore off during the night and I ready for another
week of mindless patrolling by daybreak.  Anything seemed better than
what I went through the previous day.  Still, I learned a valuable
lesson.

Always make sure the door is locked.

----

Music suddenly filled the air.

It was a lone organ, its shrill tones piercing every stone laid in
that dark hallway.  It startled the creature at first, but he was used
to it by now.  He continued on, the click-click-click of his claws
echoing down the corridor as he waddled on, adding his own sound to
the distant melody.

The notes grew louder and louder the closer the creature drew to those
tall doors.  Soon the massive portals were visible, palely illuminated
by twin torches on either side.  He ran his claws over his ebony robes
to smooth out any wrinkles that might have formed during his approach,
careful not to snag the fabric.

The two shadows that were guards watched him silently as he
approached.  He was half their height.  He stepped up to the base of
the short fight of steps before the doors, the dim orange torchlight
barely illuminating his form.  Both shadows bowed slightly at seeing
the short creature.  Then with a loud bang the doors suddenly
unlatched and began to swing inward, though neither shadow moved from
its spot.

The blaring sounds that escaped from that room nearly knocked the
creature over like a gust of wind.  He leaned slightly on his tail
until he regained his balance and composure.  The music filled the
air, three times louder than before.

Welling confidence into his chest, he strode forward, up the three
steps and into the vast dim chamber.  No normal source of illumination
was apparent here.  Instead, the sprawling walls themselves seemed to
glow a weak blue.

>From here on the creature had to be careful.  Disturbing his Master
while playing would be an offense with repercussions he could not
possibly imagine.



>>You need to remove that errant >





  He gently strode forward, across the arena sized
room, careful not to catch his claws upon the crimson carpeting.

There before his eyes was the massive instrument.  The organ bellowed
its notes from colossal metal pipes that soared over twenty feet up
the walls, disappearing into the darkness above, for the illumination
from the crystalline walls only reached half that height.  He stood in
awe for a short moment as the tones filled his ears before he
remembered his place and bowed lowly.

A silhouette played at the organ's base.

Bony hands madly danced across the keys as the melody grew more
intense.  The creature shut his eyes and imagined that there were
perhaps two or three of his Masters playing at once.  Oh what a
glorious thing!  The music's tempo rose and fell many times.  There
was chaos in those notes.  Chaos, and ambition, and power...

The creature waited for perhaps twenty minutes, his head bowed low the
entire time.  When the silhouetted finally stopped playing, he
remained still for several more moments, unsure if the pause was only
a lull in the symphony.  Finally he opened his eyes and looked up at
his Master, though he didn't dare move.

The silhouetted did not move either, still sitting before the keys,
his back turned to the creature.  Finally a deep voice rang out.

"Speak, Grav."

Grav's heart skipped a beat, his presence finally recognized.  He
stood up, his entire body stiff after remaining still for so long.

"My Lord, the harvest was a success."

"And you've brought an example?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Grav reached a claw inside his robes and fumbled around.  He hated to
part with it, as it kept his whole body warm.  He tenderly removed the
long blue crystal and held it out to his Master, though the latter's
back was still turned.  The crystal glowed palely, not unlike the
walls of the room.

The silhouette then stood and turned around, robes flowing around him.
 Grav felt the precious stone pulled from his claw and it soared
through the air, landing in his Master's grasp.

"Yes... These will do nicely..."

----


Thanks for reading!


>Always glad to read a good story!
 

-- 
No virus found in this outgoing message.
Checked by AVG Free Edition.
Version: 7.5.446 / Virus Database: 268.18.13/725 - Release Date:
3/17/2007 12:33 PM