"You are mistaken, Erudite." Exlaan muttered. "There is no impervious defense, none in this world or any other. You speak of bone reconfiguration, and yet how could you possibly do such a thing, it would deform you, your body would lose it's form. In your lust for power you have, as your people always have, forgotten the most important of things. It is your bones that form you, to alter them would leave you a dying mass on the floor."

His eyes shifting about the room, Exlaan smelled the air in his shoddy home. His eyes whitened completely, his vision shifting into that of his stone minion. The gargoyle stood and walked slowly to the rooms door, exiting and standing guard outside it.

Staring blindly at Keyrakou, exlaan placed his stave against the alter of Solusek Ro by his bed.

"Keyrakou, there is no way in which you could mortally perform this act, and in order for me to tell you why, you must listen. This shall take some time, the teak chair behind you is particularly comfortable..."

"What do you know of me, of my origins?" He questioned. I doubt you've met my," He paused, considering his words carfully. "... My twin."

A calm "No" was returned to his elven ears.

"Well then, I think it's time you learn..."

"Centuries ago, when the gods still walked upon our planes, Solusek Ro sought predecessors. After lifetimes of search, he attained four pupils. Two of them Elven, another Dwarvish, and the final, Human. It is with that Human that our story begins."

Exlaan paused and reached out to his left, taking a small wooden pipe off of the shelf and placing it between his lips.

"The boy had remarkable magical ability, he was capable at the age of 12 in the magics of heat and cold. The power captivated him, and it grew with him over the next six years.  Part of a samll band of traveling merchants, he was utilized often for menial tasks. Igniting kindling, freezing foods for storage, things of the sort."

A soft hiss of smoke wafted out of the wooden pipe and towards the ceiling.

"He had been traveling through the mountains of Lavastorm, easily thousands of years ago, on the day that he was consumed by Solusek. The mountains had been particularly active that day, spewing forth unnusually large amounts of magma, and the travelers found themself trapped by its flows."

Exlaan's upper lip, nose, and cheeks were lit softly with a yellow light, the smoke in the pipe having grown to a small smoldering mass.

"Fate was against the travelers that day, Ro's temper had been stirred and the poor souls stood in his path. The fiery moutains exploded, ash and cinder clouded the sky, leaving their only source of light the molten stone that quickly advanced upon them, and the smell burning flesh, mule and human alike, filled the air. It was then that Solusek breathed new life into the boy, and with it, a new identity. The child cried as his parents seared and melted away, bits of their skin covering him in their final attempts to protect their child."

"The flows washed over him, and in an instictive act of survival the boy froze his own body. He willed with all his might, fending off the deadly magma. Ro, knowing full well, and quite amused at the doomed caravan's presence, took notice of the sudden drop in temperature within his domain, and his attention was drawn the the young wizard."

The god spoke then, his voice roaring in the child's ears.

"Who are you, boy, and why have you yet to perish. I should destroy you."
 
As his words ceased, the lava surrounding the boy was forced away from him, with all his streangth he commanded the element and held it at bay.

The god gave a smirk then, impressed by such a display of ability on a youth, and consumed him. Ro filled his body, the magma flowed not around him but through his veins as the diety gifted his new apprentice with unimaginable power.

"You are mine now, your previous life is no more, Rashidi."

With a sigh, Exlaan exhaled, smoke billowing from his nostrals.

He allowed his eyes to momentarily shift back into their normal vision, entrusting the conversations secrecy to his pet. Glancing at Keyrakou, who's face bore an expressionless stare, he continued his story.

"Rashidi sat at the flame god's side for... six long years. At the age of fifteen Rashidi was brought to council, and Solusek granted he, as well as the three other apprentices he had obtained, staves. Wands of immense potential, and informed the four that they were to be is predecessor. He did not tell them why, though I know it now to be that he forsaw the gods exodus."

The previously wooden pipe that rested in the dark elf's mouth glowed, its surface seemed to glow as the heat it gave off caused the air around it to shimmer.

"The pupils all graciously accepted their lords gift, and were for the next three years the keepers of fire. As he marveled at the power he held, Rashidi, as all humans do, corrupted. He wanted more power, he wanted ALL power, and so he traveled to and slew all three if his fellow keepers, allowing their streangth to feed the fire he weilded. Solusek was outraged at his acts, his disobediance had cost the fire lord unfathomably, but when the god tried to smite Rashidi, the student retaliated. As the sun seemed to bear down on the young mage, he held up his staff."

The pipes surface  lost its form as it changed from what was once wooden, to a small pipe-shaped flame exiting from Exlaan's mouth.

"He struck the god, wreathing the Flaming Prince's body in blue constricting flames. The Fire Lord laughed, his voice booming once more in Rashidi's ears, as it had six years prior, the instesity of it bringing the human to his knees as the god absorbed his chains of flame. He was pleased with the ability of his apprentice, and though he refused to show it, the assault had harmed him in no small manor. He could use this child. He would use this child."

Exlaan paused once more, allowing another raspy sigh to escape his lungs.

"Solusek damanded that Rashidi repent for his herecy, and in order to do so, told him that he must destroy the god of hate. Inorruuk. The boy agreed, and with fear hastening his casting, he summoned a portal into the Plane of Hate. He worked methodically and soon found himself within the gods chambers, poised. With all of his mind he  focused on the crooked figure, thoughts of the power his master would give him rampant in his mind. As he released his spell the bolt of electric energy arced through the small chamber, entered and coursed through Inorruuk. Blackened and burnt flesh covored the god's still form as Rashidi let out a confidant laugh, and with that start of his laugh came his downfall."

The pipe of flame shattered then, flying about the room and reforming in front of Keyrakous eyes, solidifying into a molten mirror. Gazing into it the Erudite bore witness to the destruction of Rashidi.

Inorruuk's booming laugh filled the chamber as he stood and  walked slowly to the wizard. Wordless, he streatched out his arm, and plunged it deep into the boy's chest, ripping his soul from its body and tearing it in two. He hefted the small body and placed it into magical bonds, it's soul unable to ever reform or re-enter it's mortal coil.

The fragmented soul wailed, the pitch of it paining Keyrakou's ears, and it sailed out of the Plane of Hate and towards norrath, entering the bleeding body of a deceased dark elf male, reanimating it.

The mirror clouded, and compressed, once more taking the shape of a pipe, which fell, cold and wooden, into Keyrakou's lap.

"So you see, Keyrakou," Exlaan started, magmatic tears dotting the ground near his feet, "You can not learn this. My body is maintained by Hate's Bastard to a ceaseless end, I can not escape it, I can not die. for my foolishness my soul is torn and bound, this husk magically sustained."

The dark elf's voice quaked and cut out, his hands clenched in fists.

" I-I-If, you truly, seek to help your kin, look to the skies, E-El`erad holds, knowledge. I w-will, wait there.

The Erudite stood then, frigthened by the creature that stood before him.

"Leave, Keyra, Kou. Now."

Without hesitancy Keyrakou quickly fled the room, accidently slamming the door on his way out. The ear-splitting sound of an explosion blew through his ears and into his mind as the door closed.

He hesitantly opened the door a crack, peering inside. Where fine furnishings had once been, beautiful paintings, an alter, sat nothing. Bits of ash and cinder marked their previous placing, and in the center of the room sat a small, unremarkable, wooden pipe.


Umm... Yeah.... thats all this time. If it doesn't make any sense to you, then, ..... OMGWTFBBQ?... Sorry i had to so somethign wierd =)

COMMENTS! PLEASE!!! >< Thankies :D

Hmmm. Went to the Sysco Fall Food Show in New York yesterday. Had a blast during the show, I must admit, however the ride there was less than awe inspiring.

As you would expect with most groups of children, some are immature. This wasn't the case, as every last one of the ungrateful, rude, stupid, good-for-nothing bastards seemed to be.

For example: They decided that kicking the back of seats is once more a good idea. Sure, this isn't too big a deal, but when your trying to catch up on some lost sleep, having not received any for the previously 50 or so hours... It can add up...

The <Explative>s also kept harassing one of my friends. I am really sorry Erin, I wish I had done something about it.

Then I finally got home... What could be better afterall, or so I thought. Couldn't sleep there either, (PRobably for the better though has I had tog o to work in three hours.)

Got to work, was very slow. Got sick a wee bit, Poor garbage can got the brunt of it, though there were counter and toilet casualties.

And to boot... I just got writer's block... so thats all for now folks!

Tarril had for a long time, been no more than a farm boy. He grew up in the fields of antonica, near the gates of North Qeynos on a small farm owned by Farmer Walcott. The young elf, having never known his mother or father, worked in the farmers fields earning his keep. He would rise with the sun, and work untill it set again. For his efforts, he was given a small living quarter which extended off of the cattle barn.

Inside of his modest home, he kept several items. Clothing, which he himself had tailored, farm tools, and an insignia which represented the Qeynos guard. He had for his first thirteen years aspired to be a guard of the city, however had untill this day, not been old enough.

Walcott had grown quite fond of the young wood elf, though he never allowed it interfere with the work he would give him. There were far too many things to be done, and the boy was easily his greatest aid in completing the rigors of the field. He leaned against the elm post which held up one section of his stable, which had been empty for several months now. The horse, a Clydesdale, had been sold to a young girl, whose father was evidently quite wealthy. Being instantly offered more than the horse would cost to replace, 73 gold and 49 silver, he did not hesitate.

He once more looked out across his small farmland, and spotted Tarril working vigorously to till the ground which would be used to grow this years crop of grain. He had always marveled at the way which he exerted tremendous effort in everything he did. It was almost as if he could not help himself. The more the day went on, the more feverishly he would work, as if trying to race the sun's ebb.

"Alright, boy." Walcott called. "Its time to turn in. Get yourself some food from the kitchen and then get to bed."

Tarril continued to rend the ground, though slowly decreasing in speed. Walcott kew better by now than to try and make him stop immediatly. Any attempts to verbally halt him where futile and to try to physicaly stop him was dangerous. Though he did not know it, Tarril was a Berzerker by blood. His parents had both been exiles of Qeynos and had bounties on their heads, and so they turned the boy over to Walcott, to prevent any harm from befalling him. The last attempt which he had made to stop Tarril physically while he was in the throws of rage had resulted in a broken arm and two cracked ribs. He could still feel the dull pain from the wound in his chest.

"He does have plenty to be angry for, I suppose" Thought Walcott. "I just hope, he can hold all that in during the Guard testing..."

First Post!. Interesting. Fairly soon here I should have something to actually write and throw up here. That will be fun! Figured i'd make one of these so you, (And you know who you are.) Would stop hassling me. And now i can leave you comments for the super awsome cool stuff that you write.

Hmmm What else to put in here... Nothing? Alright then. I'll have to go find something. First REAL post, should be inbound in 15-20 minutes, or less. *shrugs*