Quest for Tellurine

[Moonitic]

Lady Moon stopped. She thought she heard a voice, but could not be sure. This part of the castle always made her nervous. So dark and deep. No one ever came down here now. If she had trouble, no one would hear to help. She clutched her sword tighter. Claustrophobia was starting to set in. The narrow passage way seemed closer than before. The voice came again. Faint, frightened. It sounded like Willow.

But then...a wicked, crazy laugh followed the call. What was going on?

She knew she should get up to the main level of Arconia castle, but just couldn't do it. Not with that vile Lord Tellurine running around. He wanted her, for whatever unspeakable reason, & he'd get her. She would just have to stay calm, & use the element of surprise on him. Then, she'd hope for the best. A ball of a clay-like substance rolled toward her, ending at the toe of her left boot. It was small. No bigger than the Fresca berry, the fruit the brewers use to make their beloved Fresca. Looking around, Lady Moon knelt to pick it up. She stood straight & chuckled.

Must be a mouse, she thought.

But the seemingly innocent little ball surprised her. It split open, releasing a strange mist that enveloped Moon. She fell, unconscious, at someone's feet. Above her, they laughed.

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Lady Moon of the Quill

[Lord Tellurine]

When Lady Moon awoke she had a terrible headache. It was almost as bad as the time she spent an entire hour listening to the bard John of Tesh at the Bitter End during an excruciating open mic night. She quickly sensed the danger she was in and came to her senses. She was tied to a chair in the middle of a small dark damp room. Each arm was securely tied to each arm of the wooden chair. Her legs were not tied, but free to move... to kick... She made a mental note of that fact. She was not gagged and that meant she was too far from anyone to hear her.

A light appeared under the doorway of the only door leading into the room. Footsteps could be heard along the corridor. Was it friend or foe? She could cry out if it were friend and be rescued or irritate her captor if it was not. She cried out. "Help! Whoever's out there! Help!"

The footsteps started coming towards her faster and the light shining under the door was becoming lighter. The footsteps stopped and the door was unlocked and opened. "HELP!!!"

"That is so irritating," said an oily voice. A figure appeared in the doorway. He was holding a latern and a large pouch was slung over his arm.

"You," spat Lady Moon.

"Me," smiled Lord Tellurine and he entered the room and closed the door behind him. He put his pouch on the floor and walked up to his prisoner.

"You can't keep me here like this," informed Lady Moon.

"I'm afraid I can," disagreed Lord Tellurine. "Nobody will find you. And the funny thing is we're still in your own castle. This place is so big you'll never be found." He paused. "Took me a half of an hour just to find the men's chamber pot." Lord Tellurine began walking around Lady Moon's chair. "When night falls and your castle sleeps I will remove us from here." He stopped in front of her and bent down slightly to look her in the eye. "Then I will be rewarded handsomely. You will make me a very rich man."

[This message has been edited by Lord Tellurine (edited 07-17-2001).]

[This message has been edited by Lord Tellurine (edited 07-17-2001).]

[Lord Tellurine]

Suddenly, there was a noise from down the hallway. It was soft and muffled, as if coming from another room down the hallway.

His smile faded and he stood upright again. "But before we can do any of that, there's something else I have to take care of." He strode over to the large pouch laying on the floor and he picked it up. By the way he lifted it Moon could tell it was heavy. Heavy with what, she wondered. Lord Tellurine reached the doorway and turned to her. "I'm sure you will be comfortable in my absence."

[Moonitic]

Lady Moon strained at her bindings, to no avail. "How could I have been so foolish?" she muttered. "I played right into his trap. Now I shall be taken away, and no one will ever know I'm gone."

As she thought about it, it was for the best. The price for Arconia's peace was her life, and it was time to pay it. Whatever plans they had for her, Moon would be brave.

But right now, she was frightened. A tear pooled in her eye.

[George Washington]

He removed his hands and she heard his footsteps fading as he walked away. Moonitic tried desperately to loosen her hands, straining against the cord. She heard low voices as the footsteps returned, but she could hear more, someone with squeaking shoes. There was more than one! He had returned with an accomplice. Moonitic began to cry. God, what had she done to deserve this? Moonitic was so scared. The footsteps closer now. The voices quiet. Moonitic sobbed. Then there were hands on her head and on her feet. What were they doing now? The hands picked her up and were carrying her. Where to? There is no god she realised, as she heard their footsteps cross the gravel driveway, they're taking me away from the house. She struggled harder knowing she was now fighting for her life. Not caring that she felt her uniform creep up her thighs exposing her panty clad bottom to the night air. She must get loose!

The hands held her tight. But she fought them, till she felt a small sharp stinging sensation in her upper thigh. She felt herself drifting, being shifted from the car and laid on a bed, her hands and feet tied spread-eagled to the bed. What had she been given? Everything seemed so dream like. She felt her blindfold being removed and then the gag. She fell back into semiconscious. Vaguely aware occasionally of someone taking her clothes off, unable to even protest. Blinking, it was dark, where was she now? As her eyes focused and adjusted to the dark she saw that she is in a small room. She lifted her head, trying to get a better look at her surroundings. Only the moonlight came through the uncurtained window allowing her to see dimly. Moonitic saw that she still had her bra and skimpy knickers on. She prayed that they had not interfered with her as she had lain drugged. She heard footsteps and quickly closed her eyes. The door opened, whoever it was quickly checked her restraints and left again.

Why had they brought her here? Was she a sex slave or did they intend to party with her and dump her body somewhere when finished with her? Moonitic heard movement from the corner of the room and realized that someone was sitting there, staring at her. Peering into the gloom, Moonitic said, "Who are you?" The figure did not answer but moved to her side. Sitting on the bed beside her. Moonitic could not see the person clearly, they leaned closer and Moonitic realised the person was wearing a mask. The mask of a grinning devil. Moonitic could smell that this person was masculine, his scent strong, Fanta mixed with a definite male aftershave. He leaned so close that she felt his breath on her face. He kissed her full on the lips, she turned her head but he made her turn her head back and forced her to kiss him. She thought about biting him as he probed her mouth with his rough tongue. He tasted of mouthwash.

The door opened again and the other person entered. Nearing the bed Moonitic could tell by the silhouette that it was Willow. Definite female curves. The male figure stood up and left the room. Moonitic tried to move, but could not. She was trapped by the bonds that tied her to the bed.
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I gotta stop there because of the kids, but needless to say Moonitic was given the works. After they had their way with her body, the masked devil slit Moonitic's throat. Willow immediately realized that she had been betrayed in her eagerness to fulfil her house-wife fantasy. This man was no ordinary traveling salesman. He was a dangerous man. Willow fled the room crying to save her life.

After Willow's screams died down, the man turned back to Moon's truely lifeless body. He smirked when he rememberd the pleasures that he had experienced there only moments before. Then he went back to the work at hand. He quickly captured her dripping life blood in a glass bottle, and began to chant the darkest of all spells.

His spell was the most dangerous of all in universe. It was so powerful and dark that it was able to circumvent any "walls of protection" and could never ever be reversed. This was the power of his magic.

The spell was in effect anti-life, and it moved upon the fabric of the universe. Instantaneously it removed all the threads of space and time that carried the imprint of Moonitic. In essence it removed Moon and all memory of her from the Universe, past or present. She could never ever be revived. Non of her friends could come searching for her because of the spell had removed her from their memories, and in a cunning move the masked man conjugated the spell to cover all dimensions, without exception. Moonitic was gone for good.

The masked man left under the cover of darkness, and as he left he smashed the bottle of blood on the castle walls. When this happened her body incinerated itself, leaving no trace. She will never return.

At least her last moments were fun.

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Editors note: This is not the original version of the story. I have left much more to the imagination of others, because I admit to being a little tasteless.

"The books that the world calls immoral are the books that show the world its own shame."
Oscar Wilde


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I AM SCRUBDEATH! YOU ARE DEFEATED!

[This message has been edited by George Washington (edited 07-17-2001).]

[This message has been edited by George Washington (edited 07-17-2001).]

[George Washington]

Editors note:
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BTW - you might want to turn off your time machines. You can't replace the threads of time even by offing the spell caster before the event. This also means that even if moon was somewhere else she would have been instantaneously removed, due to the pan-dimensional aspects of her death.

[LadyJane]

That is just sick and wrong. Can someone delete that awful story, please? I don't have the authority. I don't think that was where moon intended her capture to go.

[Fencing Angel]

Admin please.. i thought that this biard was PG writeing.. and if it isn't it should be...

[George Washington]

She was already into the bondage and whippings in another thread, that's hardly PG.

I will edit the piece a little because I got a little carried away, but I see non PG stuff on here all the time, but it only becomes an issue, if you don't agree.

Censorship is not what this country is about even in a fantasy.

[Moonitic]

As the person in question, I do ask that Craig remove this HIGHLY offensive material. Explaining sexual acts is NOT appropriate for the board.

If such things are allowed, I will have no other choice but to contact the authorities. This pornography has no place here.

I will say that *some* of it was clever, but when boundaries are crossed & people are personally violated like this, it must stop.

Back to the story...the real story. Not the sexual fantasies of a sick, sick young man.

[LadyJane]

I'll take it from where Moonitic left off, the tear pooling in her eye. Lord Tellurine just left the room with a large sack of something heavy.
Lady Jane had been wandering the halls all night, in search of Willow's library. Most of the castle was asleep. As Jane strode through the corridors, she heared voices, the slamming of a door? Puzzled, she looked around. The stone walls did not seem penetrable by sound. Cautiosly, she lifted the woven tapestry that hung as the lone decor in the hall. But no, it was only a cold stone wall behind. No sign of a sliding door... her candle flickered.
There's an idea! Where was the draft coming from? If only from down the hall, it would give her no lead, but perhaps... The noises again, and the flame of her candle was blowing to the left, meaning the airflow was on her right. But she was standing so near the wall already... a bit of hot wax fell from the candle and spattered on the floor - and there it was - a small grating in the stone floor - air ventillation for the lower apartments of the castle. And that was where the noises were coming from. She got down on her knees and peered into the darkness. Of course she couldn't see anything, but the voices were more distinct.

[George Washington]

All your Hypocrites
Are now belong to us.

You were angry and I edited my writing, (more than I've asked from anyone else).

This is a Fantasy writing board and the nature of the beast is that people write and others can continue the tale. I have participated and wish for my work to be accepted. It is hardly right that this tale be continued without honestly recognizing my contribution.

"The problem of freedom in America is that of maintaining a competition of ideas, and you do not achieve that by silencing one brand of idea."
Max Lerner

Especially in Fantasy Land!!!!!!


[This message has been edited by George Washington (edited 07-17-2001).]

[Iwant2bafencer]

George you are sick and should be locked up in a cold dark padded room. If you write like the rest of us write then *maybe* we will recognize your work. But I and I'm sure everyone else on this board *refuse* to accept this so called *work* of yours. Especially on a fencing board.
If you want stuff like that then go find another website!
hm so take that!

[George Washington]

Fencing Board? Fencing Board? FENCING BOARD?

You are the dull knife aren't you Wannabe.

This is fantasy land not fencing land. This place has nothing to do with fencing anymore.

I'm sorry I write as well as anyone here and if you want to contribute your own teeny-bop dribblings to this forum then go ahead. I will never pretend that you didn't write them. That is only fair.

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"There is nothing that dies so hard and rallies so often as intolerance. The vices and passions which it summons to its support are the most ruthless and the most persistent harbored in the human breast. They sometimes sleep but they never seem to die. Anything, any extraordinary situation, any unnecessary controversy, may light those fires again and plant in our republic that which has destroyed every republic which undertook to nurse it. "
William E. Borah

[Iwant2bafencer]

It is a fencing webpage with a chat board, and in that chat board the main thing is fencing therefore I said fencing board. Use your head.
Also I never said that I was pretending that you weren't writing. I said nothing of the sort. I simply said recognize as in give you feed back. You know 'keep up the good work' 'I liked it but maybe you should change it here or there.' Things like that. So why don't you get off my back for a while!

[Moonitic]

As a legal note, I'd like to point out that the right to "freedom of speech" does NOT include privately owned corporations, etc. Since this board is owned privately, & not by the American government, we cannot use that defense.

I will, however, thank you G.W. for kindly removing the HIGHLY offensive material that was first written. I do respect that. The story is good, but I could not allow myself or my best friend be spoke of in such a light.

And thank you all for your support.

[Lord Tellurine]

Lord Tellurine led the Lady Moon through the hallways of the lower portions of the castle. The Lady Moon's hands were now tied securely behind her back and a gag was placed in her mouth to keep her from yelling for help. He kept her in front of him, a dagger occassionally pressing upon the small of her back. The only light was from the small lantern he held in his other hand. The pouch he had earlier was noticeably absent.

"Turn here," he ordered in a soft, demanding voice and he followed her around a sharp corner leading to a stairwell. "Up," he said.

Lady Moon slowly climbed the steps. The dank air of the castle dungeons was slowly being replaced by the fragrant air of outdoor Arconia. At the top of the stairs was a large wooden door. Lady Moon stopped just short of it.

"Allow me," said Lord Tellurine, acting like the moment called for some chivalry. He reached past Lady Moon with the hand that held the dagger and opened the door.

It was a beautiful night in Arconia. The sort of night poets and scribes would write about, if they weren't being led away by treacherous royality from neighboring nations. Lady Moon stopped for a moment to take it in, as if it were the last time she would see the castle in the moonlight. Lord Tellurine blew out his latern. "Move!" he snarled into her ear.

They made their way through the castle garden and stopped at a large rose bush. "Watch this," said Lord Tellurine with evil glee. He took a large stick and used it to push away the thorny bush to reveal a hole in the castle wall. On the otherside was the forest and a horse tied to a nearby tree. It sneezed. "Stupid horse." They made their way through the hole in the wall and stopped at the horse. Lord Tellurine looked around and then pointed into the distance. "Get on that log!"

Lady Moon walked over to the large log and climbed up on top of it. Lord Tellurine walked his horse over to stand beside her. "Whoa, Hayfever. Whoa." Lady Moon thought it strange for the horse to be named Hayfever, until suddenly, it sneezed.

"Stupid horse. Get on!" ordered Lord Tellurine. Lady Moon swung her leg over and landed on the horse's back. Lord Tellurine climbed up behind her. "We won't be riding all night. I have reservations at an inn on the other side of the forest. I want you to be well rested when I present you to the King of Muu." He picked up the reins and the horse began trotting into the dark woods. It sneezed. "Stupid horse."

[This message has been edited by Lord Tellurine (edited 07-17-2001).]

[George Washington]

All your legality
Are now belong to us!

That was sad to see, and so classicaly close-minded American. We all know that corporations and webmasters have the right to act like facists. I was not talking about the "Right" to freedom of speach, but instead about the idealogy. Freedom of speach.

[its_me_mango]

http://www.fencing.net/forum/redface.gif
willow, moon, zelda, arcon are capable of writing metaphorically, it's sort of what shakespear did. He wrote a whole bunch of bawdy stuff for adults that were intentional (1st intention) and kids aren't supposed to understand the stuff. Anyone who wants kids to understand their metaphors isn't too good, i think that's the distinction. It's like this stuff I saw recently in a gallery: a photograph for $900. or an acrylic for $4,000 - even though the photograph was "real" and worth $900, I preferred the acrylic for $4,000, she did the most outstanding rendition of a wave I have ever seen, it was totally cool, all the swirls were there, all the foam, the power of the ocean, the glow of the moon on the waters, it was a wonderful painting, the flowers blossoming on the beach etc, the photograph was good too, it was the inside of a wave and i know the guy who took the photo had to have been lying down on a little short board waiting all day long and taking rolls of film in order to get the shot. Well thats all, I just want to say that the board should take a good look at itself and reflect a little bit.

[This message has been edited by its_me_mango (edited 07-17-2001).]

[Moonitic]

go fig

ok, enough of this jerk's trash. Maybe, if we ignore him from here on out, he'll take his toys & go home.

On with the story! Lord Tellurine, take it away!