The Djinni's defeat...

Kardswann is defeated. But I feel so very sad about it. He was apparently under a compulsion of some sort. He fought it enough to allow us just enough time to lay him low. He was also known to Vardishal, as it seems that his shade spoke through me, which is what allowed Kardswann to be able to hold himself free of the compulsions sway long enough so that we could defeat him. He did not fight us. I fear that if he had, we might not have prevailed. Kardswann was potentially a mighty foe, most likely our most dire threat to date, who did not even try to protect himself, instead knowingly allowing us time to to destroy him.

I do not know what it was, or whom it was that controlled him, but I have a suspicion that the sealed room below the ruined church may hold the answers. At least I am unaware of any place else in this city that we have yet to explore, and thus have not cleansed. Of course the answer may not be in the city environs, but for myself, I feel this to be unlikely. 

We found a large cache of coins, which we promptly split out the promised victor's share to Haleen. There was still a tidy sum split among the four of us. 

Now to return to Almah, and let her know, that with the exception of the sealed room, the city is free to be resettled. Are we then done? Or is the mysterious room required to be checked first. And if so. How do we breach the seals?

But regardless, once more we, the four of is, have managed to persevere, indeed to triumph over a formidable foe. And Spring, my beautiful Spring is alive and well. She will be totally healed. I believe, by the time we awake from our rest. 

If we are done, then I will ask her to be my wife. I have already hinted to her that I would be asking this of her when we have finished our contracted responsibilities to Almah. And Spring is intelligent, understanding what it is I mean to ask. And she is giving every indication of being receptive to this. I wonder if Connie would perform the ceremony? That is if Spring has no qualms of being married under the auspices of Iomedae. One thing we haven't really discussed in detail are our individual beliefs in higher powers. I don't expect there to be any major problems in that regard, but I do want to discuss it with her. 

But I am still saddened that we couldn't find a way to have rescued the Djinni from his predicament. I will say prayers for this fallen being. I don't have full awareness of him, but the flashes I did get from Vardishal's memories, tells me that he was once a mighty warrior and boon companion of his, like unto a brother. Yes, I am sad and disappointed that we, that I, wasn't clever enough, powerful enough to have effected Kardswann's rehabilitation. But I wasn't, and he is no more. May the powers that be forgive me this.

Though I now see a reason to gather more knowledge and might to myself. Besides providing a worthy companion and protector for my beloved that is. Though that is more than a worthy enough goal in and of itself. But surely there are others like Kardswann, a lost or trapped soul that needs someone to help them as he needed help. I want to succeed in doing that the next time a similar situation arises. While I am not able to change what happened this day, It may yet be possible to atone. Perhaps no one else will see this day's outcome as I do, but I can, in the end, only judge myself as I believe I should.

o0o

The cleansing is almost done, almost...

Kiril looks at Haleen and thinks, "So, taking on a Ogre in single combat... and winning! Admirable. And that certainly explains the... fieriness of my Spring. Then glancing at 'she who is always dominating his thoughts', he smiles warmly at her. "Melamin, Lle naa vanima! (You are beautiful!) Gi melin!"

But then he notices "that" look in her eyes. She's up to something. He wonders what? Well, I just hope I can figure it out in time to support her. Life was simpler before he went and fell in love, but he is ever so grateful for the change. Now, knowing her, he would have it no other way.

Glancing back to Haleen. A formidable addition to our little band. "Good! We," he suspects, "will need every bit of help we can get. A Jinn is no small opponent." He only knows the lore he was taught, but he certainly knows it will be far more difficult than the fairy tales say of them. 'Magic lamp or bottle indeed. If only it were as simple as finding one, and thus controlling the creature. If only.'

"Ah well," he sighs to himself. 'No, this is going to be a bloody and vicious battle, and he himself may very well not survive. Did he ever tell Spring of his home. His parents? He thinks he did. Yes, he's sure of it. If he perishes, she would be welcome there. His parents will love her. Her spirit, intelligence, and curiosity will delight them. And they will readily see what I see, why I love her. Yes, she will have a home with them if I don't make it through this encounter.

And even if we all do, is the city truly cleansed if we finish with Kardswann. For there is still that mysterious sealed door under the old church to deal with. Well, I can hope that this is the end of it. I do tire of the bloodshed. I may be good at shedding it, but I world far rather not, but our world is not a peaceful one.

o0o

Haleen?

Haleen! Can it really be! A debt? Why wouldn’t she tell me? I could have been some help. I think back to how naive and sheltered my life really was compared to how things changed once I was travelling, relying on my wits once again – so very different than when I was three.

I hope she will give me a few minutes of her time – I’ve been worried sick and searching endlessly for her – now, here she is! Fighting for a purse of all things! I haven’t got enough money to pay her debt, but, if she is being honest with me, I have half. She is welcome to it!

I wonder if she will share what kind of debt she bears? I hope she likes Kiril. It wouldn’t do for the two people who mean the world to me to dislike each other.

My head turns to look at the woman I called mama Haleen until I was old enough to drop the mama. Who wouldn’t love Haleen? My heart thumps a wee bit faster as I clench Kiril’s hand tightly. They have to like each other, I fret.

I can’t stay worried too long, as my mind again shifts to how happy I am that Haleen is alive! Safe and well! I am so fortunate to have obtained passage on this journey! I frown again as I think of Alma and her impatience. I dare say we will engage her entire guard before we risk our necks foolishly.

I glance in the direction of the genie. How are we going to trick this creature into his bottle? My mind begins to concentrate on an idea... it’s clever and it just might work... if we can all catch on quickly enough...

o0o

Recollections of the day...

Standing facing the Genie, Kardswann , who has taken over the Gnoll tribe that is using the ruins of Kelmarane as a base, Kiril reflects on the days events so far.

The merchant princess, Almah, demanding they hurry up with the cleansing of the city. Is it her blood being spilled? Or has she any appreciation of our success so far? Did she even show regret when Valerous was slain? No. No, And not really. Do I respect her? Not anymore. Yes, this is what we signed up for, but a modicum of understanding is at least to be expected. Its also the least that is to be demanded. As of this morning, that seemed to be totally lacking. If we succeed, this shown will be addressed.

Spring has found her missing foster mother, Haleen. It turns out that she is a capable warrior in her own right. She had some days past defeated the Bazaars champion, an Ogre named Hurvank, the Strangler. After a short but heartfelt reunion, Haleen agreed to join us as we finished, hopefully clearing out the city. She did have two requirements though. She wants to finish what she started, finishing off the Ogre, who's demise at her hands was denied her by Kardswann when she had defeated him before, and the promised prize of 2,000 pieces of gold.
The riches are what drove her to leave Spring behind in the first place. Apparently, she owes some unscrupulous person, or persons, that we didn't take the time to find put, as we want to end this today, if at all possible. So know the Ogre is slain, at the hands of Haleen, but aided by our group. As well as the Ogre's buddies, three bugbears which attacked as the strangler met its end.

Then we were called up to a balcony alcove where Kardswann had watched the combat, only to have him signal to a Flind minion to attack us. The Flind too, was slain, but only after flinging to daggers at my Spring. Now she is injured, and she has used much of her magical energy, how much she has left to her this day I do not know, and we have yet to engage the Genie in combat. It seems obvious to me now, that this was what it had intended all along. To drain our workers of magic of much of their strength.

I believe Connie has cast less than Spring, but I don't know if she has more or less ability as regards sheer number of spell casts, as compared to Spring. One is a Cleric, a caller on the Divine energy of her Goddess, Iomadae, and the other a Sorceress of Arcane power. I have some knowledge of the workings of the Arcane, thanks to the teachings of Jessaril, but none with the Divine.

Now the Genie has offered us the positions of his bodyguards. Even if we were not already hired to cleanse this city, I couldn't trust its word. Turning the Flind on us has proven that, if nothing else did. The time to fight is now. But I must see that Spring is healed first. If Connie can't do it, I still have one final potion of healing that I have reserved for her. And I need her to cast her spell of magical armor on herself. Oh how I wish she would remember to do that, but alas, she has too much fire inside of her when combat starts, and her desire to strike down our foes seems to preclude her own sense of self preservation. If we survive this encounter, it is going to be my first priority for my training sessions with her.

Doesn't she understand that if I lose her, that there will be in fact two deaths, not one. I can not,will not be without her. I will fall on my sword if I cannot find a way to bring her back. I will be with her in life, or death. But we will be together!

o0o

Safe...

A contented peace settles upon Spring as she listens to Kiril's deep voice murmur a moving sonnet, his lips pressing her brow as sleep claims her, one word crossing her thoughts: Safe... Blaze's feisty screech, as he hunts his meal, her last conscious reflection...

o0o

A promise in a poem...

She's his! As he is hers. He loves his Spring with a passion, a fierce intensity that is frightening for the depth of its power. He is lost to her, and cannot think of a grander fate than that.

Before she has fully fallen asleep, he murmurs,

"Gi melin Ethuil (Spring), sleep with this thought in your mind, melamin.

I respond to your flames, pulled from like to like.

I cannot be quenched from any but your passions.

I shall  stand beside you, guardian, supporter, comforter, lover, husband.

Our story will be writ among the very stars themselves.

Forever, and beyond Forever."

Kissing her on the brow, content to hold her in his arms, Kiril is happy.

o0o

Tender Moments

Spring’s eyes fill as Kiril’s words float over her, his strong voice hesitant, unsure. She swallows while leaning forward, touching her lips to his.

She ignores the tears as they trickle down her cheeks. her kiss deepens, her tongue teasing his lips apart, sparing with his as they battled, Kiril’s arms gently squeezing her as she slides her legs apart, sitting on his thigh, her knees resting on the blanket.

“Kiril, gi melin, melamin,” she whispers, her mouth moving along his jaw, kissing. “I will fight fire dragons and sand worms to be in your arms. To hold you. You know I love you, my courageous warrior, do you not?” Her lips press to his again as her arms threaten to crush him with her embrace.

“I do not need a fancy bard or fancy words. You speak from your heart,” she pauses, emotion welling in her throat. “You speak from the heart,” she continues, her voice low, raw. “You speak the truth and it is the most beautiful verse I’ve had the pleasure of hearing,” she lowers her eyes shyly.

Kiril takes his hand and draws it under her chin, lifting it, his lips brushing softly across hers, “Gi melin,” he whispers before pulling her against him, his lips ravaging hers once again.

She pulls him down to lay beside her on their mat, the blanket lightly covering them. “Gi melin.” Slowly, gently they take the time to explore, to touch, to feel each other; to map the other’s experiences. Her fingers brushed lightly over many scars, kissing them, as her fingertips traced their path. His traced her curves and valleys, his kisses soft and patient. They made love under the moonlight. Languorously relaxing in the afterglow, Kiril’s words whisper in her mind...

“My love, forever is not long enough to love you

I yearn for your kisses, your touch

Forever is all that I can promise you

Until the end I shall provide a haven in my arms

I am yours, my love, forever!”

“I am yours, melamin,” she sighs content, her eyes closing, their bodies entwined, her head on his chest, his arms cocooning her, their legs tangled with his. “Good night, gi melin...”

o0o

A poem retold...

Kiril, holding Spring to him, kept her warm and protected through the day and a good part of the night. He himself only slept in short naps, sensitive to her slightest movement.

“I could have lost her,” he thinks to himself, over and over. But he knows that he must not swaddle her so much that she can't be herself. That she wouldn't be able to live with, or forgive him for.

Spring is adventurous, headstrong, and rather fearless. But that is part of who she is, and by the Gods he loves her, and while he fears for her, he couldn't imagine her other than she is. But he should be fair to her in thinking that she most likely feels the same way about him, feared for him as he did for her. For he no longer has a doubt that she loves him as fiercely as he loves her. He never really did, he admits to himself, rather he feared that she wouldn't want to love him. He is just a warrior after all. He might have an ancient lineage, but it brought no title, lands or wealth with it. So it meant nothing. And while she may be an orphan, a magical gift like hers usually foretold a future of power, wealth and prestige. Also, from what Jessaril had taught him, Sorcery is a power that resides in ones blood, a gift of a parent or perhaps further up the family tree, of a being of great power. Sometimes those forebears watched their descendants from a distance. He has no great ability to face an unhappy being that might think he was unworthy of her.

Kiril thinks on this as he holds her through the hours and comes to a conclusion. “Puitho sen! (Fuck them!) Where were they when she needed help, when she lay bleeding her life out in his arms, today? Not here, that's for sure. But I was! And I will continue to be there, by her side. I love her, and she me. I will do all I can to be worthy of her, to be a source of strength for her, hopefully a person she can be proud of.

"But I cannot lose control of myself again. I was reckless, foolish in my rage, my grief. I could have gotten myself killed and left her defenseless. Yes. I thought the shaman had slain her, but I didn't know that. I didn't check. Never again!

Time passes, the moon is at its apex, midnight, when he looks down at her, realizing she has woken. She seems stronger.

"Melamin (My love), how do you feel?" He softly asks her.

Spring wiggles and rolls to face him, her green eyes reflecting the moon's bright illumination. She smiles at him. “Better mela (love). Much better. And you? I seem to remember you awash in blood. Are you well?”

Sighing with relief, Kiril responds, “Yes I am fine, Connie was kind enough to ask Iomedae to give her the blessing of healing. And as you now appear cognizant enough, we can dispense with these.” He unties the silken cord around her wrists. At the questioning look on her face, he explains, “Melamin, in your weakened and somewhat befuddled state, you began to cast errant magicks indiscriminately,” Following the jut of his chin her eyes are drawn to a scorch mark on the wall that wall that hadn't previously been there.

“Kitten, Gi melin.” Kiril says, then he averts his blue eyes, now a very deep, dark pool of blue as seen in the light of the barely full, and very bright orb filling the night sky. A color Spring has already come to associate with great emotional turmoil or distress in him. Clearly loathing himself, he falters on the words, “I... I will not lose myself like what happened today, ever again.”

Spring grasps his head with both of her hands, moving his face in front of hers, forcing eye contact with hers. “Oh, Kiril, my other (warrior), stop this.”

Seeing her look, the reproach, not of his actions, but of his impending self-destruction, he snaps to awareness of himself. “Yes, mela, you're right. I will stop it. I scared myself. Badly. And that compounded, I think my fear of losing you.” And he bent his head forward to kiss her.

“I told you a poem once, not so many nights ago. But you were asleep at the time. I would tell you it again, but I must warn you, it is not written at the hands of a master storyteller. No, it is just my words to you.” Kiril shrugs apologetically, then says,

“My love, forever is not long enough to love you.
I yearn for your kisses, your touch.
Forever is all that I can promise you.
Until the end I shall provide a haven in my arms.
I am yours, my love, forever!”

“I know it is not a grand epic, melamin, but it is heartfelt. And I shall endeavor to always be true to those words, laito cath, ten'oio.”

o0o

Steel & Silk...

Spring hugs Kiril very tightly to her breast, her eyes filled with tears. His fear has pushed him to super human strength, to a speed and fury that is both horrific and frightening.

While she suffers no ill effects from the Shaman’s blast, she has a new respect for their darker magic. She worries about Kiril though, she’s never seen him lose any kind of control but as she lay gasping, the blast knocking her flat, she could hear the shrieks and cries of the gnolls and the satisfied shouts from Kiril as the piercing sounds faded.

His bloodied figure afterward, as he cradled her while she was yet stunned, and more so by his fury. His tears that fell to her arms, her face, her neck as he buried his face in her hair. Too weak to comfort him she senses his self-loathing; a deep fear within himself. He cradles her close as he staggers back to the water, gently cleansing the gore from his body, and that which dared to sully hers.

She could but barely gather the strength to press her lips to his. She was as weak as a kitten. He dressed her gently, while shooing away buzzards, dressed himself, then lifted her and held her close, making his way back to the monastery, seeking the shaman.

He carried her to her mat; their mat, his relief so great at being told she would not perish he curled up next to her, her back against his chest, his arms protectively wrapped around her. He pulled up a light blanket more for privacy than need, kissing her ear just before falling asleep.

Spring slept for the rest of the day and into the night, Kiril’s arms shifting, but never releasing her as she tossed and turned, small whimpers from her troubled lips, as her brow furled and her limbs twitched. Worried she might hurt herself, or someone else, Kiril lightly bound her wrists together after she sent a sliver flash that burned the side of the stone wall it hit. He brushed her brow, soothing it.

He succumbs to sleep, again, as the day slithers into darkness and wakes with a start when he feels her lips nuzzling his neck. “Gi melin, melamin,” he whispers.

She snuggles into the cradle of his arms, too tired to wonder why her hands are wrapped with a silken cord. “Gi melin.” She slumbers on. He brushes the stray hairs from her face, kisses her and tucks her into the crook of his body. He hears, rather than sees Blaze.

“She will be okay,” he reassures the fidgety bird, not knowing if it understands or not.

o0o

Battle frenzy...

“Crap!” Kiril says forcefully, if lowly. “One day to enjoy with my love, just one day. That shouldn't be to much to ask for, surely!” Quickly dressing, but ignoring his boots, as he knew he wouldn't be given time for them, he draws his blade, sticking it point first a few inches into the sand, then he draws and nocks an arrow. Out the side of his mouth, he speaks to Spring. “I'm sorry that our interlude has been disrupted. I really didn't want to see blood spilled this day, but it seems that the Gods want more of these creatures removed from our plane of existence, and we've been selected as their agents in this.”

He says it so calmly, as if discussing the weather, that she can't help but to laugh, though she does cover her mouth with her hand to try and keep the sound from carrying. And Spring has also hurriedly dressed. She now stood on his off hand side, smart enough to know to leave his path to his blade clear. He was proud of her.

Then the Gnolls, 4 warriors and one wearing black robes comes into view about 70' away. A shaman. Not good.

“Mela, the one in the black robes. We take him first, he's a caster.” And Kiril lets loose on his arrow. THAWP. The sound of the striking arrow and the yelp of pain from the shaman, causes chaos to erupt among the Gnolls. A flash of light and two bolts of arcane energy hit the shaman as well, causing puffs of dust, more likely sand, to fly off of his robes with the hits. But he's still up, though he has taken too much damage to be able to concentrate on letting loose a spell at the moment. Instead he grabs one of the escorting warriors, and pulls him in between them as a shield. Well, that might work for arrows, but not Spring's magical missiles.

But two of the warriors have pulled bows of their own, and the last remaining one is running toward them. Kiril quickly draws, knocks, and lets loose another arrow, shooting at the shaman. But at the last second, the shaman moves his unwilling shield into the arrow's path. It's a good solid hit, not enough to bring the warrior down, but doing considerable damage. Again Kiril sees the flash of magical force go streaking past him, and hears the shaman cry out. But he's still up, although he does look wobbly. Two arrows come toward them, but both miss.

“Spring, love, you did remember to cast your magical armor on yourself this time, didn't you?” Kiril asks, hoping he sounds nonchalant, but fearing he sounds anything but.

"Yes, melamin,” she replies. “I'm learning.”

Kiril almost sags with relief, but not yet, all 5 are still active and dangerous. The one running to them, to him, is now far too close to allow him to shoot again, so he drops his bow, puts his hand on the hilt of 'Tempest' and moves forward the 10' still separating us. He lashes out, his blade swinging high.

A perfect strike.

His head topples from his body, severed cleanly. A geyser of blood sprays wide. 2 more flashes go past Kiril, impacting the shaman yet again, and though he finally crumples to the ground it is not before he successfully casts something back.

Kiril sees a beam, a ray he thinks it's called, shoot forth from his forefinger, a sickly, blackish-green energy shooting by him. From behind him, he hears Spring groan, and then drop.

He doesn't remember really what happens next, but finds himself absolutely drenched in blood, and bits of flesh. Gnoll flesh. No mistaking that smell. And he is holding Spring. She is alive, but weakened by the magical attack of the shaman. He would later learn from father Zastoran, that the spell was most likely something called 'enervation', though Zastoran isn't positive.

The Gnolls? They are quite dead. Kiril has picked up some new scars, but nothing too serious. And Spring is mad at him. Not that I he gotten some new wounds. No, she was conscious during the remainder of the fight. Or, slaughter, would be a better description. Apparently Kiril, who prides himself on his control during battle, had gone into a battle frenzy as to make an entire tribe of barbarians proud. When he heard her fall, his mind must have assumed the worst. He was merciless, and took rash chances just to bring them down.

But his love is alive, and her strength has steadily returned to her.

Now they are once again naked and in the pool, but this time for cleansing, mostly of Kiril, as the only blood on Spring is from what he transferred to her when he picked her up after the battle. He is chastened, but she is alive. He hopes she decides to forgive him. He doesn't know what he would do, would want to do, without her.

“Spring, melamin, please forgive me”. I turn my face away from her, not wanting her to see the tears falling from my eyes.

o0o

Oasis...interrupted...

"Kiril!" Spring squeals, instinctively bending in half, at her waist, before straightening, her attempt to free her foot useless. "Gawds Kiril," she pants, her toes curling, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as his lips draw along her sole, gnawing briefly the instep before her

toes are suckled into his warm wet mouth, her abdomen clenching, that place between her thighs convulsing. "Oooh," she moans, "but I won, fair and square."

His response is to draw his tongue around her toes wriggling it between them. She shrieks and grabs his firm thighs to steady herself, and finds herself face to face with a conundrum.

She resolves it with a mischievous thought, her tongue coils out and wraps around his perfectly presented sword, the helmet pressing along her tongue, her lips drawing it deeper into her throat. A wash of water over her face, causes her a momentary panic as she sputters, her tongue pushing at his manhood, while his tongue drove her wild, the pointed muscle drilling along her instep again before wrapping around another toe.

Gulping, she doubles her ministrations, her fingers kneading his buttocks as she pulls him deeper in, determined to ..."oooOOooOoo," her groans pushed past his appendage her eyelids fluttering... she swallows reflexively, massaging his pole as he woke every nerve ending in her feet, which seemed to be directly connected to her warren, as the pulsations grew stronger with each flick of his tongue.

The throbbing seeming to match each touch on her foot, connected to the throbbing between her thighs, her belly contracting as the nerves stretched and sprang back, tightening deliciously as waves rolled over and over, colliding as they withdrew and melding as they surged forward, the trembling nearly too much to bear!

Her lips massaged his shaft, licking the hood before drawing him deep again, sensing his tremors; his legs stiffening as his 'poison' started filling her throat as hers erupted, nearly drowning her as she swallowed his gift and thrashed her own out, only Kiril's tight hold and strength prevented tragedy as they both flopped on their backs floating breathless in the cool haven, gasping.

She recovers first and swims, strong strokes to his side, her feet skimming the sandy bottom as she cups his head, cradling it, her lips pressing against his, nibbling his lower lip, until their tongues spar, Kiril standing, lifting her in his arms, hers wrapping around his shoulders.

"Kiril, melamin, gi melin," she whispers quietly against his mouth, the words clear, and spoken with the correct accent. She rests her head on his shoulder, her lips casually nibbling the damp skin as they make their way to the water's edge, her legs sliding down his body, the water acting as a lubricant. She feels his 'snake' jump and grow against her again, her legs wrapping around his waist, feeling his pole slide inside of her easily, and before long they are grunting, her head thrown back as utterances and moans escape her lips, their bodies shuddering as they released their passion into one another.

Kiril's legs barely able to hold them, sink slowly to sit at the edge of the pool, stretching them in front of him, his arms holding Spring close on his lap, her breast mashed against his chest as they gulp air, their bodies alive to even the slightest breeze.

It is therefore a slight shock as they hear voices, muted, coming through the thin band of Palms that enclose their oasis. Their eyes meet, Kiril already lifting Spring up and off him, "Gnolls," he whispers, motioning her behind him as he reaches for his sword and clothes...

o0o