theworldofdreams.com

It was a beautiful clear morning with just a touch of chill in the air. The marble walls sparkled with sunlight and the melodious play of the fountain scintillated with a sunbeam induced rainbow. Ciara took a deep breath and gazed over the gardens outside her and Rod's home in Nujel'm. She was feeling so very much better than she had for a long time. In fact, she was out of practice and today she planned on honing her deadly skills by slaying a few dozen monsters. Orcs might be nice today, she thought, as she examined the wavy edge of her razor sharp kryss. She sheathed it and slipped out the slender, lethal rapier to scrutinize it as well. Ahh, time to play!

Ciara worked her way through the top two levels of Despise, loosening her muscles and tightening her skills as orcs, orc defenders, mages and the like fell to her vorpal blade. She reached the third level and paused to cast the small cantrips that would buff her for the first time. Half closing her eyes, she felt the power surge through her with each cantrip and potion until she almost seemed to glow internally with incalcuable power. Swiftly, she cantered through the rough hewn corridors of the level, seeking out and destroying Dragon Defenders, Master Mages and an occasional drake. When she reached the lake room, she crossed over the small bridge, adeptly slaying the dragon that defended it and gathered some wild garlic on the island. She paused and built a small campfire on the rocky surface. Relaxing for a bit, she brewed a cup of tea and listened to the echoes of the chamber that was so large she could not see the farther end.

Hmmm, there definitely appeared to be dragons deep in there somewhere. That was exactly what she had hoped. Finishing her purkleberry tea, she rinsed the cup and stowed it away securely. Cautiously, she crossed the bridge and walked her horse slowly into the stygian depths of the chamber. A loud rustling off to her left attracted her attention as a large, tan Royal rose from the deep crevice it had been hiding in. Ciara smiled grimly as she started to bandage herself and moved in. Suddenly, guttural voices shouted IN EX GRAV from all about her and she was trapped in a crisscross weave of paralyze fields! Before her, the Royal dragon seemed to smirk as it moved aside for a hulking, dark figure.

Rod floated in the timeless void of Self. Physically he was in a chamber in the Nujel'm house but his true Self was wafting high above on eagle's wings. He gazed down upon the World below with a vision so acute he could see each blade of grass rustle in the wind. The wind itself was as a solid but mutable surface to his pinions and the sweet strain of soaring filled his mind. His mind was almost completely filled with the joyous experience of being one with the powerful raptor, but a small corner of it remained human and there was concern. Ciara was out today and he worried about her. He told himself it was foolish. She was a strong, capable warrior who could defeat anything that walked the lands or burrowed beneath it, but he still worried. The eagle part of him noted the migrating salmon leaping a small falls below and folded its wings into a plummeting dive. Spreading his wings at the last possible moment, Rod arced upwards just inches above the rushing water and seized a glittering salmon with his powerful talons. He barrel rolled and landed on a dead tree, staring intently about him as he prepared to eat.

A wave of panic swept over him from the depths of his mind. His mind snapped back to his human body with reverbrating effect, causing him to fall over and slam into the wall behind him. Something was wrong with Ciara! This was not the ordinary danger that all humans undergo on a day to day basic in the World, but something more horrific. He could not explain how he knew this but the emotional bond between them vibrated with urgency. She was his All, his Heart! Rod seized his druid staff and summoned his porcelain steed. Leaping upon it he opened a portal to Despise. She had said she was going there to work some of the kinks out. He charged through the twisting rocky corridors, his heart in his throat and death in his eyes. The few orcs that had crept back out after Ciara's recent journey quickly scampered back into their hiding places at the first sight of his awe inspiring figure.

"So, you are finally here and helpless before me." the undead Ancient growled in a bass voice that sounded like far off thunder. "You do not know me...personally but you knew an old friend of mine, Gizash."

Ciara wrinkled her nose as the odor of an open grave combined with a slaughterhouse swept over her. "You definitely need some industrial strength mouthwash." she retorted. "Gizash is gone and if I were you I wouldn't be bragging on any connection with him."

The dragon sneered and gestured with a filthy talon to the deamons surrounding her. IN EX GRAV they intoned and more fields of paralysis enmeshed her in their coils. Ciara didn't care for this one bit but she calculated she could roll sideways and backwards and avoid the supposedly encompassing mesh of fields. All he had to do was strike her once.

"There is a Taint in the world, have you noticed?" the Ancient grumbled. "Most of my kind are mindless beasts of fury but I possess intellect to make your own shrivel in despair. My minions will keep your paralysis fields refreshed and I will not release you inadvertantly because there is something I need from you."

"What you need is my rapier buried deep in your sweetbreads, garbage breath." she remarked, wondering what he was up to.

"There is a way for the Taint to overcome and absorb anything, anyone. I have that knowledge and yet I lack a single thing. The Power of the Purkle." it concluded, towering above her with ominous intent.

Ciara couldn't help it. She giggled uncontrollably for a few seconds and raised her head, or at least tried to. "You must be joking, right?" she replied. "Hehehe, the power of Purkle. Oh god, that's a good one."

The loathsome beast stood before her, regarding her with undead eyes that burned with the fury of ancient hate. "You mock me and that shows your ignorance. The Purkle is a magical aspect of arcane magery that few have heard. You somehow have imbued yourself with it which has made you more powerful than any other on this World." it continued. "Not just battle power but the power to bring others to you, the power to change the very fabric of possibility, the power to rule."

"You silly monster. I just care about people", she replied, looking up at it fearlessly. "There is no magical power to it and you can't learn it or take it from me. It is simply, human love."

"I will NOT accept that puerile answer. " the dragon roared as he lashed his tail. The royal standing behind him went "urk" as the tail knocked him into the lake with a splash. "I KNOW the truth and your pathetic human love has nothing to do with it! I have spent decades studying this and finally talked with the self styled Lord of the Vampires, Eliathan. He is the one that told me the truth."

Ciara groaned. She had heard of Eliathan, a dark being torn from the world of the living, destined to be alone for eternity. He supposedly had a rather twisted sense of humor. That explained this situation but she doubted even Eliathan had expected this cretinous dragon to interpret things quite this way. "Listen, buzzard breath. Eliathan probably didn't want your stinkin' carcass in his nice, clean crypt and told you anything to just go away. Purkle is just a color and one that I am fond of. Now tell your bug eyed minions to back off and I'll happily stick my rapier up your nose, 'k?"

The Ancient shuddered inside. Her words rang with truth and yet, he was so convinced he was correct. The dead braincells that were activated with arcane magics thudded as thoughts whirled about incoherently. If she was right then there was no binding magic, he could not believe in love because there was only hatred. That was what gave him power and with that thought, necromantic energies filled him and he lashed towards the purkle draped human with a paw of razor tipped claws!

Ciara made herself go limp when the beast struck her. It knocked her out of the saddle and beyond the paralysis fields! POR CORP WIS, VAS ORT FLAM, VAS ORT GRAV!!! the daemons thundered and the very stone Ciara was on fragmented into a thousand pieces. She was thrown to the stony floor of the dark cave, her rapier skittering across the unyielding rock, her mind momentarily numbed from the blasts. POR CORP WIS, VAS ORT FLAM, VAS ORT GRAV!!! the daemons thundered again as the undead Ancient slashed at her again with his claws. Rolling to the side she unsheathed her kryss of destruction and set about selling her life dearly.

Rod thundered down the steps to the third level and galloped madly through the narrow corridors. Evidence of Ciara's passage were everywhere. Neatly desposed corpses littered the passageways and chambers. Some adventurer's hack or bludgeon their prey to death, Ciara preferred the neat surgical stroke. His heart was hammering in his chest as he went down the switchback trail leading to the lake room. Her presence pulled him like a magnet and he unconsciously readied spells in his mind, ready for casting.

As he entered the enormous chamber, he saw lighting slamming into the ground with concussive force, sending bit of rock spinning away like deadly shrapnel. Guttural voices continued to shout words of Power and in the glare of light, he saw a slim figure afoot with a slim blade in her hand, facing an enormous dragon that fairly radiated with hatred and power. As he spurred his steed, he raised his staff high and sent a rune spiralling nature's curse upon the Ancient. At the same time, a daemon collapsed to the floor, it's leg tendons severed with a precise stroke of the kryss. Ciara dived and retrieved her rapier, the continued her roll to come up behind another deamon who received a face full of chain lightning from one of its companions. She shrugged as she tickled the interior of its heart with her blade. She couldn't quite describe the feeling as she saw Rod but her heart seemed to blossom with a radiant golden glow and the power of that infused her body as a gorgeous smile spread on her face. Then the world exploded about her!

The Ancient turned as Rod rode up, its eyes blazing with fury. "You will NOT save her! Her Purkle will be mine!" it roared. Rod's steed danced back as the bludgeoning tail of the Ancient swept past them. "Purkle?" he asked confusedly. "What?" Then the room seemed to explode around Ciara and her body went flying into a stone wall and Rod saw red. Spurring forward, he dodged the Ancient dragon and summoned a band of spirit wolves to harry it, then summoned an Ent to attack one of the remaining demons. The last deamon had Ciara in his taloned claws, its mouth opened wide to rend her apart. She squirmed, the grip crushing her armor into her body and thrust it in the throat. The daemon staggered back and then shrieked as a bolt of lightning arced from Rod's staff to it forehead.

The Ancient dragon was no longer a thinking creature but one possessed with battle fury. It shrieked like a locomotive as it charged the two puny humans before it. If it could not have the Purkle it would destroy it! Rod and Ciara glanced at each other, their eyes caressing for a moment and then communicated silently in that way that couples sometimes do. They dodged aside smoothly, moving as one unit. They worked the Ancient in a well honed pattern and in a few minutes, the Ancient was gasping out its life on the uncaring floor of the chamber. As the light of undead life faded from its eyes, Rod turned to Cira and said, "Purkle?" She started giggling again and began to tell him the whole story as they rode home together, side by side.

I don't know how well you know Rod and Ciara, Bayn. (I mean, really--how well do any of us know any of us?)

Anyway, from what little I know, this tale captures her spirit--her "purkleness"--very well, indeed. She may not actually laugh and giggle at Ancient Dragons (at least not until they are dead), but she most definitely would never back down from one. I liked the whole Rod thing as well, and I enjoyed the way you explained the connection between them without getting mushy.

I am, once again, most impressed.

Please do not stop writing!

Thanks Atei, it is always chancy writing about someone real. From what I have learned from Ciara personally, things I've heard and watching her and Rod's interaction at the party, I felt somewhat comfortable writing what I did. I really should have asked first but the story was clamoring to get out and if I don't obey the muse, it sulks and goes away.

Bayn:
Wow..
Neither Rod nor I know what we did to deserve being immortalized in such a wonderful way. We are humbled that you would put so much time and effort into creating such a story. Thank you so very much from both of us.
However, I would like to point out a few teensy, tiny discrepencies. Anyone that knows Rod, knows he would never be awake early enough for a morning adventure and if he dared go fishing without me, I'd smack him with his staff.

Rod and Ciara, Master and Mrs. Doodad