Taken

[Arianwen Chandell]

*As Arianwen stood in front of the door, waiting for it to open with the baby in her arms, she was grabbed roughly from behind by two strong hands. Screaming in fright and shock, she clung on to the baby tightly who began to cry loudly while the two of them were dragged screaming down the tunnel they had just come through. She tried to keep her eyes on her companions who were undoubtedly doing their best to follow and rescue them, but whatever had a hold of her had such a strong odour of something unpleasant that as she struggled to gasp in large lungfuls of air, she breathed too much of the smell in and promptly passed out.

When she came to, Arianwen had no idea how much time had passed. She lay on what appeared to be a rocky, earthen ground in a small dark chamber with nothing in it but what seemed to be a deep well. The baby was no where to be seen, and Arianwen listened closely to see if she could hear it somewhere. Unfortunately, she heard nothing. Crawling to her feet, she was hit by a wave of nausea that caused her to be violently ill. After heaving up the contents of her stomach in a corner of the cavern, Arianwen wiped her mouth with a shaky hand and when her blurry vision finally cleared, she began to feel around the walls of the dark cavern. Finally, she found what felt like a small door, cut into one rocky wall. Of course the door was locked, and although she tried desperately to open it, the door refused to budge.

Sighing in frustration, Arianwen made her way over to the well and peered down into its murky depths. She could not see the bottom of the well but it sounded like something was moving around down far below. Calling out down the well, she was surprised to hear a loud roar echoed back up at her. Gasping, she stepped back quickly from the well, moving backwards until her back found a wall. Sliding down the wall, Arianwen pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged her knees as she began to rock slowly back and forth, fear etched all over her fair features. This fear was even more evident as she heard what seemed to be heavy footsteps approach the door and the sound of keys being jangled. Arianwen watched with wide terrified eyes as the large door handle began to turn… *

[Blood and Roses]

The heavy wooden door swung open, protesting loudly with a squeal of its iron hinges, and boomed ominously against the stone wall. Flickering torchlight and the smell of cheap wine filled the little room. Two men stood in the doorway leering at the terrified girl, before ducking into the cell. They were dressed identically, with thick leather boots, sturdy workman’s pants, and chain shirts. Over the chain, white tabards emblazoned with a golden sunburst were belted across the middle with wide leather belts that supported short swords. One carried a torch, the other clutched a bottle in his fist. Both reeked, as if neither had bathed in weeks, and doused themselves regularly in alcohol instead.

The one with the torch turned to set the light in a sconce near the door, then rounded on Arianwen once more. “’Ello, pretty,“ he said, smiling an oily smile. The man was squat and thick of limb. His heavy double chin was covered in stubble, and the parched lips revealed teeth turning black at the gums. The fluttering light gleamed on his bald pate, shining on the hair that hung in greasy strands from the crown of his skull. “Don’t be scared, now,” he rasped. “We ain’t ‘ere to ‘urtcha. Tell ‘er we ain’t ‘ere to ‘urt ‘er, Aiken.” He nudged his partner.

Aiken chuckled and swayed drunkenly, then took a long pull from his bottle. He squinted at Arianwen. “Naw, me an’ Gruden won’ ‘urtcha.” His face was thin as a hatchet, with eyes that protruded like those of a lizard’s. Hair the color of dried mud fell over his forehead, and his mouth seemed far too wide.

“See, pretty,” Gruden smiled and nodded. “Now, if’n yer good to us, we’ll be good to you.”

Aiken’s face took on a sick smile. “But if’n yer not good to us, well…” His hand went to the sword at his belt. “Well, we may urtcha after all.”

“Come on, pretty,” Gruden took a menacing step toward Arianwen, “be good to us now.”

The two men quickly advanced upon the poor girl, seizing her forcefully. The smell of alcohol and their long unwashed bodies was powerful enough to gag. Rude hands grabbed at her, sliding up her skirt, clutching her thighs, squeezing her breast, jerking hard at her hair and bearing her to the floor. Teeth sank into her shoulder. Her struggles excited them more, and their laughter echoed off the walls of the little cell.

Aiken struggled to push down his trousers with a free hand, his face inches above Arianwen’s. His breath washed over her as he grinned evilly down at her. “Glad yer so eager, luv,” he ran his tongue along her neck, then leaned back to leer down at her. But if’n ye don’t hold still, I might just stick it in yer aaggk!” The vile words were cut off before he could finish them by the slim blade that burst from his mouth, destroying teeth and impaling his tongue on its way, to stop a scant hair’s breadth from Arianwen’s face. Aiken’s body had gone completely limp, hanging suspended upon the metallic spire, and his eyes were frozen wide open, the glaze of death passing over them.

A twinkle of light, bright as a spark, ran up the portion of blade that had not passed through Aiken’s brain, up to the hand holding the sword. A slim, muscular arm led up to a face both beautiful in its form, yet awful in its wrath. Red-gold hair framed high cheekbones, icy blue eyes, and a patrician nose. The jaw was clenched tight, but the full lips were pulled back from perfect teeth in a grimace of righteous outrage.

With inhuman strength, Aiken’s corpse was lifted away from Arianwen, still hanging suspended by the sword transfixing his skull, until it was standing almost erect. Gruden let out a strangled gasp and hurriedly crab-walked away, scuttling as far across the chamber as the walls would allow. With an almost casual flick of the sword, Aiken’s corpse sailed over the rim of the well, down into the darkness below.

Another man stood over Arianwen. He was tall and slender, his wiry frame covered by a black coat with a collar that circled his throat and hung loosely down to his thighs. The sleeves were large and loose, trailing down to just below the elbow, revealing forearms taught with cords of muscle. A golden sunburst the size of a man’s hand with a fiery ruby at its heart hung on a gold chain around his neck. A thin leather thong hung around his waist to support a scabbard. Black leather pants hugged his legs, down into high hunting boots that came up above his knees.

The rage melted from the beautiful face, to be replaced by a look of joyous relief. He swept the sword away as he bent to one knee before Arianwen. “My poor dear,” he said, his voice sweet and pure. “Rest easy now, for I am here. These disgusting beasts will not lay another hand upon you.” He smiled at her reassuringly. “I give my word.”

The stranger stood swiftly, head turning to the quivering form of Gruden. “This pathetic wretch will never leave this cell,” the man voice was filled with barely restrained fury, “for his type are not fit to walk beneath Solanasia blessed light.” He turned once more to Arianwen. “Tell me, lady, should we send him after his comrade into the deepwyrm’s lair? Or perhaps put him to the sword?” With this, he turned his sword over, blade resting in the crook of one arm, presenting the hilt to Arianwen. “Or do we simply leave him here to rot? Of course, the choice is yours.”

[Arianwen Chandell]

*Arianwen’s entire body shrunk with fear as she looked up with huge eyes at the two men that had just entered the room. She was naive in the way of man, but knew enough from her time at working at the Dancing Devil Inn to know the look of lust when she saw it. Despite their empty words of reassurance, Arianwen scrambled backwards and away from them until her back smacked against the wall. It wasn’t enough to stop them though as they soon had their grimy hands all over her tender and chaste body.

Arianwen screamed, the sound deep and husky in a throat that was seldom used for talking, which only seemed to spur the men on. They seized her, the smell of them making her gag as their hands hurt her. Her blouse was ripped open, revealing her pert breasts which were soon grasped hard by greedy hands. Arianwen cried out in pain and one of the men laughed, while his hand went up her skirt in search of something else to grab. She tried to fight them off but they were both too strong for her. Tears streamed down her face and she squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear watching what was about to happen.

As her eyes were shut, she didn’t know why the man stopped at first. When she opened her eyes warily, she saw the man that had just been about to rape her, staring down at her with wide glazed eyes. A blade was sticking out of the mans mouth and Arianwen screamed again. The body of this man was then flung over Arianwens head, and she scrambled backwards, glad that for the time being at least there were no hands on her. She watched wide eyed as a new arrival flung the body down the well. He was a stranger to Arianwen, but given the fact that he had just stopped her from being raped, she was willing to root for him instead of the other pig that was still left in her cell.

Something about the way the man was dressed reminded her of Gwydion, and she wondered if this man was a friend of his. His words to her were kind enough, and she allowed herself to relax slightly as the man turned his attention to the other nasty beast that was now cowering in a corner begging for his life.

Arianwen watched to see what the stranger would do, but was surprised when he handed over the hilt of the sword to her, asking her what she would like to do with the man. Arianwen had not one mean bone in her body, however she could still feel the mans wretched hands up her skirt and on her breast as she lifted the heavy sword in front of her. Walking over to the man she dragged the sword beside her, the weight too much for her lift in her current state of fright and fatigue. Struggling to find the words, she spoke in her broken English.

~Arianwen want… man.. feel.. fear.. pain.. like Arianwen..~ she looked to the stranger with wide eyes. ~You… hurt.. man?~ she asked, handing over the sword. *

[Blood and Roses]

The strange man looked upon Arianwen with an expression of absolute sympathy. He nodded in understanding, gently taking the sword from her trembling hand, and clasping her fingers with his other hand. A cool pulse of tranquility and well-being flowed forth through the touch, a minor cantrip designed to put the receiver at ease and soothe raw nerves. He smiled as he spoke, "My dear, nothing would please me more. I have... experience, with the inflicting pain upon the deserving." His voice became almost conversational. "It is the bread and butter of an Inquisitor's work, you know." A slow smile stole across the stranger's features. "Of course, there are far more challenging methods of extracting information than with torture, but one must remember their roots."

Still holding Arianwen's hand in his own, he led her to the rear of the cell, where the pitiful Gruden was huddled, hands covering his head, sobbing wretchedly. At the sound of their footsteps, Gruden looked up at them with wide eyes, tears creating tracks in the grime that covered his face. "F-f-father Karos," he whined, "have mercy, please! I was only following your orders!"

"My orders!" the man identified as Father Karos shouted, his face a mask of fury. "My orders! I don't recall ordering you to rape this woman." The thin blade of his sword came to rest directly beneath the double-chin of Gruden. "Are you telling me I gave such an order?"

"N-no, Father, no!" the fat man wailed.

"And what exactly were my orders, Gruden?"

"Your orders were to break her! To make her pliable!"

"Precisely," Karos said coldly, pressing the tip into the fleshy chin. Gruden squealed, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks.

"But Father, you said you wanted to get his attention! You wanted him to come for her! I just wanted to perform your will, Father!" His words were barely decipherable, coming out in gasping sobs and blubbers. "And you never had a problem with it befo--" the last of the words were cut short as the blade of Father Karos' sword lanced through the thick throat of Gruden. The impaled man's hands reached up and grasped the blade that did the deed, his mouth working soundlessly and blood pumped out his throat in time with his heartbeat. The front of his white tabard quickly absorbed the blood shed upon it, while the golden emblem seemed to cling to the fluid that spilled over it.

With a wrench, Karos jerked the sword free of Gruden's throat. As the blade withdrew, the sharp edge completely severed most of the fingers gripping it. The severed stumps shot streamers of blood into the air as the hole in Gruden's throat began to pour the crimson vitae out in earnest.

As the fluid slowed its outpouring to a bare trickle, and the light nearly fled Gruden's eyes, Karos stuck his sword into the stone floor, tip first, where it stood on its own. With one hand, he gripped the golden sunburst hung 'round his neck, while pressing two fingers of the other hand into the gaping hole in Gruden's neck. A yellow light emitted from the hole, illuminating the cell room like ten torches. The light slowly died away, and as it did, Karos removed his fingers from the ragged orifice. The hole quickly closed itself behind them, leaving behind an angry red scar where the blade had pierced the flesh minutes before.

Gruden jerked, then drew a ragged, gasping breath. The fingerless hands reached up to paw weakly at the scar, the stumps cauterized and sealed closed into equally red lumps. Gruden's eyes rolled up in his skull.

"You see, my lady?" Karos droned coldly as he reached down to clean the blood from his sword on a clean section of Gruden's tabard. "Even death will not bring release from his torment." Karos straightened, then leveled a vicious kick at Gruden's jaw. A sharp crack sounded as his foot connected with the side of Gruden's face, whipping the hapless man sideways. His head smashed against the wall behind him. Blackened teeth skittered along the floor. The squat form collapsed in a limp heap.

The black-clad priest turned slowly to face Arianwen, his face once again serene. He reached out and took hold of Arianwen's elbow and gently directed her toward the cell door. "Come, my lady. Let us get you out of this dank cell. There are things I wish to discuss with you, but first you should eat, and bathe. You'll feel better after that."

Karos led Arianwen out into the hall beyond, where a guard stood on either side of the door. They were dressed similar to the two men that had attacked her earlier, though their uniforms were cleaner, and their faces were half-covered by pot helms that gleamed in the torchlight. As Karos and Arianwen passed through the threshold, both men came to attention, heels clicking together, right fist to the golden emblem on their chests. "Sir!" they stated in unison, obviously awaiting orders.

"Proceed," Karos waved a careless hand. Both guards quickly marched ahead down the hall, Karos leading Arianwen by the arm. The hallway was dark, lit only by the occasional torch, and cobwebs filled the corners and ran along the ceiling. Doors with barred windows lined either side of the hallway. As they walked, Karos chatted idly. "You see, my dear, you should feel honored. This dungeon doesn't officially exist. All knowledge of it was wiped from the records when the Order first came to power, some three hundred years ago. Only a privileged few know that it's here, and only a few special guests stay here. Even fewer leave."

They came to a spiraling staircase, its steps worn away by countless feet upon them. Karos gestured up the stairs. "These men will take you to a private suite, my lady. Fear not, they are good men." He turned to the guards. "Tell the steward that she is to have a bath drawn, and suitable clothing brought up. Beyond that, see that no one disturbs the lady. Any deviation from my orders will bring swift and terrible consequences." Both guards beat a fist against the golden sunburst emblems on their tabards. Karos smiled at Arianwen. "Rest well, lady. I will join you later. First, though," his eyes traveled down the corridor to the cell they had emerged from, where Gruden's unconscious form now lay. "First, I have discipline to dispense." With that, he turned on heel and headed back down the hall.

[Gwydion Shadowbane]

Gwydion soared above the war for Bendelsain, watching the ebb and flow of battle. The forces of good and evil had nearly destroyed the city, the Dancing Devil was cheerily blazing in the night, and blood ran like rivers through the streets. Gwydion could no longer see Queen Moridanu or her retainers, nor had he sighted the enemy commander.

Once Gwydion had parted ways with Arianwen, he turned his attention to a counteroffensive against the airborne predators called the Harpies. They had fought to a stalemate, the avatar and the immortals. Neither side had been able to gain an advantage, though at various times each had teetered on the brink of annihilation. It was during this effort that Gwydion felt a sudden smothering sensation, as if his lungs had ceased to function. He could not breathe, he could not think. At once he had recognized the feeling as coming through the link he shared with his Soul Gem, the one he had given to Arianwen in the forest. Something had attacked her, and she was unconscious. To make matters worse, she was far below ground when she was taken, where Solanasia's light didn't shine. Thus, he could not track her as he could were she above ground, only get a vague sense of which direction she had been taken.

The Mantle of his goddess upon him, sheathing him in a corona of blue-white flames that made him look for all the world like a miniature sun, Gwydion streaked through the night, following the sense that pulled at him from the east. Gwydion's heart was full of dread, even as the ball of flame raced after the pull of his Soul Gem. East, to his homeland. It seemed the Hunters had snared him after all.

Gwydion did not fear retribution from the Order. He was now beyond their power to condemn or pardon, having been selected by the goddess Solanasia to carry out her will, the same goddess that the Order of the Breaking Dawn prayed to. But he did not look froward to what awaited him there. The Order had been Gwydion's family since his youth, and he did not want to face his oldest friends in a kill-or-be-killed situation. He was still accused with the death of his sect-mates, and had no proof of his innocence beyond the power of his goddess. The Order, being a lawful organization, would be forced to find him guilty and declare war against him if he didn't submit for execution.

Which he was not about to do.

The blue-white comet passed through the night, bathing the land below it in noonday tones as he passed. Gwydion knew exactly where they would take Arianwen. He pushed himself faster,

[Arianwen Chandell]

*Shaking like a leaf, Arianwen watched the exchange between the two men with wide, terrified eyes. With her broken comprehension of the spoken language, she struggled to follow the conversation that flowed between the man who had now been identified as Father Karos and the man who had been about to do unspeakable things to her. The despicable man seemed to be confused by Father Karos’ anger, saying something about following orders. Arianwen was confused what he meant by this, but had to quickly look away as Father Karos soon made good on his promise of inflicting pain on the horrible man that had been so happy to hurt her only moments before.

She could only nod and follow meekly as he guided her out of the cell. Although his words were kind, and his tone was soft, Arianwen’s instincts told her that he could not be trusted. The men outside to whom she was soon entrusted smiled at her in what appeared to be an attempt at reassurance, but the smiles failed to reach their eyes and Arianwen pulled her torn blouse closed as she followed them to a small room. It was slightly larger than the cell, not dank or dark, but with oak floorboards and a few items of furniture. A makeshift bed had been placed in one corner of the room, complete with a thin mattress and pillow and a slightly dirty blanket. There was a small chest of drawers and an even smaller chair propped up against the far wall.

As she shuffled into the room, she had to move quickly as a larger man carrying what appeared to be half a barrel bustled into the room. He ran his eyes over Arianwens trembling form, a knowing grin on his lips before he dropped the barrel onto the floor with a loud bang. Another man, wearing the same tunic as all the others entered then with two large buckets of water; one hot and one cold. He poured both into the barrel and then left with the buckets in tow, without a word or even a glance at Arianwen. The barrel man walked towards the door and muttered something to the two men that Father Karos had handed her over to. One of them laughed, while the other narrowed his eyes and looked at Arianwen in a way that made her heart freeze. She was grateful when a small boy appeared in the doorway, his expression nervous as he looked up at the three large men still talking by the doorway. In his arms was what appeared to be a cream and gold piece of material. He stood awkwardly, holding out the garment to Arianwen but not stepping into the room. Afraid to move closer to the three men, she stayed where she was, her eyes on the small boy. Finally, he sighed and placed the garment on the floor inside the door before turning quickly to move away. The three men laughed then, and moved to follow him. Before they had completely left however, the barrel man turned and sneered at her.

~The master wants you clean and dressed in that..~ he kicked at the garment on the floor. ~You can have a sleep too if ya want..~ he gestured towards the bed before pulling the door shut behind him. Just as the door closed, she swore she could hear the name "Gwydion" being said, but the door was then closed before she could listen anymore. Arianwen heard the lock slide into place and her stomach felt sick. She was loathe to do anything these men told her to do, however she could still feel those men’s hands on her and their stench was still clinging to her skin. Walking slowly on legs that threatened to buckle underneath her, she retrieved the garment off the floor, placing it on the bed before she slowly started to undress. She looked around frantically for any window or hole in the wall that could provide a means to spy on her naked form, but seeing none, she continued to undress. The only thing that she did not remove was the long necklace that hung down between her now bare breasts. The gold sunburst jewel with the ruby in the middle was her only link to Gwydion and she rubbed it absently as she walked towards the makeshift tub.

Padding over to the barrel on bare feet, she climbed carefully over the edge, dipping her toe into the water first to test the temperature. Surprised to find it rather pleasant, she soon slid into the water, the barrels size meaning that the water reached up to her shoulders. With no soap or cloth, she had only the water and her hands to scrub herself with, but the warm water felt soothing against her skin. She was surprised to find cuts and scratches on her body, the discovery bringing back the attack to her harried mind, causing her to tremble all over as she climbed back out of the barrel.

Standing there, dripping wet and trembling, she realised that she did not have anything to dry herself with. Picking up her discarded torn clothes from the floor, she began to use these to dry her body enough so that she could get dressed. Slipping the garment over her head, she found that it was a long cream dress with gold thread laced around the v neck, tunic sleeves and long skirt that fell to her ankles. It was the most beautiful dress she had ever worn, and she felt a brief smile touch her lips as she gazed down at it in wonder.

After a while of standing there, looking down at her dress, she then looked around the room. Nothing had changed, and she soon began to feel restless. Walking over to the door, she banged on it, croaking out the word ~hello?~ only to have no response. Sighing, she walked back over to the bed and lay down on top of the dirty blanket. Being as scared as she was, she knew there was no way that she would fall asleep, but it still felt nice to be able to rest for a moment. She was wondering about how long it would be before she was able to eat something when her eyes drifted close and she was soon fast asleep.*

[Gwydion Shadowbane]

Gwydion felt Arianwen's touch upon the pendant as though her fingers had brushed his own heart. All of the pain, terror, hunger and exhaustion crashed over him like a wave of sorrow, and his concentration broke. The fiery mantle winked out like a snuffed candle, and his golden fire wings vanished in a flash. Stunned, Gwydion plummeted soundlessly from the sky, trailing a streamer of black smoke.

Rushing headlong to earth, his black hair whipping furiously behind him, Gwydion fought to regain control of his power while reining in his emotions. The intensity of the transmitted emotions had shocked him to the core, and he was left feeling cold inside. He felt as though he stared into the face of a hurricane, its mighty winds ripping away his thoughts as they tore at his clothes, his hair, his limbs...

...a small voice in the back of his head screamed that it was not a hurricane he was facing, but the swiftly-nearing earth, and if he should reach it at this speed, he wouldn't live to soothe the emotions that Arianwen had sent him....

The earth filled his eyes in all directions. From his peripheral vision he saw as he passed below the soaring treetops. He could count the blades of grass, if he had more time to do so.

...Wake up, idiot! the voice screamed. Wake up, or you'll never see her again!

Gwydion loosed an earth-shaking roar as the white-hot flames of Solanasia enveloped him, cradling him within a sphere of holy fire. The flaming sphere expanded outward, ceasing his descent scant inches above the earth as everything it touched was burned from existence. The massive evergreens around him shattered, the moisture within their mighty trunks boiled and evaporated and remains ignited in a heartbeat.

As he shot skyward like a rocket, Gwydion looked toward the earth that had nearly claimed his life and was saddened. A smoking crater three times as wide as he was tall was all that was left of the spot where he'd nearly impacted, the woods around it set ablaze. He felt the deaths of the primordial trees as weights upon his soul, but he could not stop to mourn them.

His jaw tightened as he sped away, hands clenched into fists until his fingers hurt. When he reached Arianwen, he would hold her close, and carry her to safety. Then, he would return to the Order, her captors, and unleash burning hell upon them.

[Blood and Roses]

The church bells tolled the 18th hour just as a soft knocking came on the door to Arianwen's cloister before the heavy bar was removed from the other side. It opened slowly, and a page boy poked his head around it, chewing his lip nervously.

"Miss?" His voice sounded tense. "My name is Geybal. I've been sent to fetch you for Father Karos. I'm to escort you to dinner." The boy couldn't be much more than 10 years old, and the bruises around his left cheek and right shoulder stated loudly that those years were not easy ones. "Please, ma'am, step quickly. Father Karos doesn't like to wait."

The boy quickly lead Arianwen through the massive cathedral-fortress, chatting as they went. "You're not from around here, are you? You don't look like one of the locals. You're very pretty, Miss." He smiled shyly at her but didn't slow his pace. "All the women from around here have black or dark brown hair. Most of them are missing teeth. Do you have all your teeth? I've got most of mine, and new ones growing in the gaps. I'll lose another one soon, though." He turned his face toward Arianwen and thrust his tongue through his teeth to wiggle an incisor at her.

The page's chattering was interrupted as he quickly pressed himself against a wall, dragging Arianwen with him, and bowed his head as a group of guardsman marched past. Their armor was like the rest, only it gleamed to a mirror finish, their tabards where pristine and crisp, and they carried shields. They passed by without incident, and the Geybal let out the breath he'd been holding before continuing down the hall. His step was quicker, and the idle chatter had ceased.

They passed three more patrols as they moved through the stone corridors, and Geybal remarked that it was unusual for so many guards to be active.

The corridors began to grow wider and taller, and guardsmen were stationed both sides of the corridor, two of them at every door and at each intersection. Each stood tall and held I pike at his side. It was to one such pair that Geybal let Arianwen, and through the large door they bracketed. Within was a large feast hall, with long, empty tables that stretched away to the far end. Dominating the wall beyond, a mural depicted a figure clad in floating raiments of yellow, red, and orange. Her hair was gold, and her large eyes stood out like gleaming emeralds. She had a gentle, knowing smile on her lips. One hand reached above her head, palm facing up, and upon it stood a miniature representation of the planet. The other hand was palm down, and beneath it all manner of horrific demons and undead beasts strained and raged against the hand, and one another.

"Solanasia Completes the Celestial Cycle," Geybal intoned, genuflecting with his thumbs and forefingers pressed together, fingers spread wide apart, and bowed his head in the direction of the mural. Then he turned and took Arianwen's hand, leading her to another set of doors. The guards at this door crossed their pikes over the portal.

"Page Geybal brings the dinner guest Father Karos has requested." the boy stated to the guards. One of them poked his head into the door for a quick confirmation before the guards uncrossed their pikes and swung the double doors open. Geybal squeezed Arianwen's hand, and whispered, "Don't be scared. He needs you, so he can't hurt you."

Geybal darted away, as the smell of food wafted through the open door. Through the doorway, a large dining table could be seen, and it was laden with a feast, though no one was visible sitting around the table. A two suckling pigs lay on a bed of fresh greens next to a brace of quail packed with spiced stuffing, a rack of lamb glazed with a tangy-sweet sauce,, and a slab of roasted beef that sat in a dish with potatoes and carrots. Bowls and plates filled with vegetables cooked in every fashion imaginable, from fresh to fried. Mushrooms bobbed in beef broth, fruits arranged into an elaborate bouquet, and rounds of cheese and steaming breads. There was nothing elaborate about the layout, but the sheer variety made the table look sumptuous.

At the far end of the table, Father Karos rose to his feet as Arianwen entered the room. He was now dressed in white robes of the same cut as the ones had worn when last he had me with Arianwen. "So glad that you've joined me, my lady. Please, sit and eat your fill, and we'll talk a while." He gestured expansively to the table, indicating a seat by his side.

[Arianwen Chandell]

*In her dreams, he was there. His strong arms were wrapped around her as they flew through the sky, the trees a myriad of different greens far below them. The wind ruffled her long blonde hair which flowed loosely around her face, a peaceful expression etched upon her fair features as she was finally free from her prison.

But then, a light knocking reached her ears, causing her eyes to flutter, the peaceful scene fading to be replaced by the more harsh reality. Opening her eyes now, she looked around her wildly before remembering where she was. Sighing deeply, she rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes as she sat up and swung her legs off the bed. Rising, she walked towards the door where the knocking was coming from, opening the door to see a boy who called himself Geybal. Her heart started thudding in her chest at the mention of Father Karos, but her stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of eating dinner. Meekly, she nodded and followed the boy, what else could she do?

She struggled to follow his quick incessant chatter, nodding where it seemed appropriate to do so before she wrinkled her nose while he stuck his tongue through his wobbling tooth. He stopped talking and dragged her against the wall however as more soldiers marched pass them. Arianwen held her breath, fearing the worst, but the men continued past them without incident and she let out her shaky breath as she followed the now silent boy the rest of the way down the twisting corridors. The only comment the boy made was about the number of patrols they saw along their way, and Arianwen wondered why they were so active. Was it anything to do with her arrival, she wondered. Or.. Gwydion? At the thought of him, her heart filled with hope and she quickened her step behind Geybal as they finally reached a large set of doors, flanked on either side by more guards. Geybal led her inside, and Arianwens attention went to the mural of the beautiful woman with golden hair. Geybal spoked with reverence. "Solanasia Completes the Celestial Cycle." He said before bowing to the mural. At the mention of Solansia, Arianwens brow furrowed. She recognised the name, and again immediately thought of Gwydion. He had to be connected to all of this somehow. Was he the reason she was here?

She was interrupted in her thinking when Geybal took her hand and led her to another set of doors, as two guards crossed their weapons in front of her. Arianwen felt a new wave of fear wash over, but as the guard paused to check with Father Karos before admitting her inside, Geybal squeezed her hand and told her that he needed her, and not to be afraid. What could Father Karos possibly need her for?

Shaking visibly, Arianwen stepped tentatively into the room, her pale eyes going wide as she saw the vast amounts of food that were spread out before her. Her stomach rumbled again, and Arianwen blushed as she felt self conscious in her beautiful gown. Her stomach soon grew ill at ease however, when she laid eyes upon Father Karos who had now risen and asked her to sit and eat her fill. Curious as to his true purpose, and terrified of what those implications may mean for herself and Gwydion, Arianwen nodded slightly, her long blonde hair falling over her left shoulder. Hiding behind her hair as far as was possible, Arianwen slipped into the only seat that was available, by Father Karos’ right side.

~Thank.. you..~ she murmured, as her eyes looked upon the feast in front of her. Hesitantly, she reached out to grab a loaf of bread that was closest to her and a plate of cheese with a large knife. Cutting the bread and cheese, Arianwen wondered briefly if she would be able to sneak the knife away from the table somehow. It would be handy to have at least some kind of weapon, though she doubted she would have the nerve or the will to use it. Hesitation flitted across her fair features, before she placed the knife beside her plate and brought the cheese laden bread to her mouth. Taking a small bite, Arianwen soon forgot her manners as the flavour and aroma hit her senses. She soon finished the bread and cheese on the plate and began to pile her plate high with meat and vegetables. Stuffing the food into her mouth as though she hadn’t eaten in a week, (well it had been a few days at least), Arianwen tried to keep her eyes focused on the food in front of her while she ate. Of course she could not will them forward forever, and soon risked a glance at Father Karos. He was watching her carefully, an arched brow betraying his thoughts were about her, and she swallowed her mouthful loudly before she lowered her hands to her lap.

~Who… is.. you? ~ She asked in her broken language. ~Why… is.. Arianwen..~ she pointed desperately to herself, although it was clear he already knew her name. ~… here? Where… is… here?~ *

[Blood and Roses]

Karos watched silently as Arianwen ate, first picking at the food on her plate, then voraciously consuming victuals as though they would be his last meal. That thought gave him pause; he had not yet decided how to handle this woman, the lure for his trap, but he would not kill her. Not until she'd served her purpose, at any rate.

A cold smile stole briefly over Father Karos' face as he considered what other delights he might extract from the fair Arianwen.

Finally, the feeding frenzy slowed, and the captive girl looked up at him nervously. "Who… is.. you? Why… is.. Arianwen… here? Where… is… here?" Arianwen gestured helplessly, desperate to communicate her meaning, and Karos suppressed the urge to grimace in distaste. The girl was a barbarian. Eating like an animal, barely coherent of speech. And the clothing she'd been wearing! It was just like Shadowbane to court such uncivilized rabble. Being the low-born cur he was, the fallen paladin would mingle with others of his ilk.

Karos smiled at Arianwen, but there was no warmth in that look. His thin lips pulled away from teeth that looked too sharp, and his eyes glinted. "My dear lady," he said without a hint of sarcasm, "I am Father Datteartus Karos, high priest of Solanasia, Mother to us all, Knight of the Golden Flame, Keeper of the Word, Brother of the Gilded..." it occurred to Karos that the girl would hardly be impressed by all of his titles, considering she barely spoke as a human, and decided to simplify it for her. "I am a hunter. I destroy vile, wicked things in the name of my Goddess. This is her high temple, in the City of Chaynos; the seat of her power. As to why you are here, well..." the smile slid from his thin face.

"You are here as bait, my dear." Karos stood and began pacing down the length of the table. "As I said, I am a hunter. My prey is diabolical and canny, and I cannot bring it down without a lure for my trap." As he drew closer, his eyes appraised Arianwen. "You, dear girl, will bring me what I desire." He fell silent as he came around the end of the table, and came to a halt behind Arianwen's chair. "And you know what I desire quite well." The menace in his voice was not abated by its hushed tone as he leaned down to whisper, "Gwydion Shadowbane."

Karos resumed his march. "This is his home, you know, or used to be. He was well-loved here, too, before he slaughtered his closest allies and their families." He stopped his pacing before a suckling pig, and took hold of the carving knife and fork beside it. "Some say he even consumed the flesh of their children," he remarked conversationally as he jabbed the fork into the pigs flesh and sheared off a piece with the blade. As Karos raised the fork to his lips, he stated "I, for one, believe them." He chewed the pork slowly, as though distracted by far-away thoughts, a grim smile on his greasy mouth.

Karos turned his gaze back to Arianwen, eyes blazing with fervor. "Did he tell you of them?" he asked in a voice like a preacher at his pulpit. "Did he tell you of those innocents he slaughtered?" His voice rose. "Did he whisper his confession to you from his pillow, complacent after he'd befouled you with his wretched seed? Don't look so suprised, I smelled his stench on you the moment I layed hands upon you."

Karos leveled the fork at Arianwen like a sword as he continued. "And you! Could you not sense his taint, pervasive and unholy? Or were you eager to lay with him, like a whore?" He jabbed the fork toward the ceiling as his voice soared. "This man Shadowbane is a blight upon the face of the earth!" A bulge in the lower portion of his robe lifted the vestment as he ranted. "Solanasia demands his destruction! He must not be allowed to live on to spread his evil upon others, and I shall deliver him swift justice!"

The priest slammed the fork down into the skull of the pig before him, sending a spray of hot juices in all directions. A bit of flesh struck him in the face, and the fanatical light dimmed from his eyes. One hand, with nails painted red, reached up to brush the morsel away. Karos turned to Arianwen, the sinister smile on his lips made more so by the protrusion beneath his robe. "You, dear girl, are here because you shall be the instrument of my justice." His eyes glinted. "Perhaps it shall begin now."

Just then, the door burst open. Page Geybal stood in the doorway, his face a mask of horror at the sight before him. When Karos' eyes settled on the boy, Geybal shrank in fear, but did not leave. The priest's voice was icy as he said, "If this isn't important, boy, you shall regret the day you were shat from your mother."

"Y-y-your E-excellency, I b-bring word. A star sails through the night, bright as the sun. It is speeding toward Chaynos, and shall arrive soon."

Karos glared at the boy, then relented. "Very good, my son," he told the page, who smiled through his loose tooth. "Thank you for the news. Please summon Magyar." As the boy turned to fetch the captain of the guard, Karos called out, "And take this girl back to her room. Be sure to confiscate the dress she is wearing."

[Gwydion Shadowbane]

The citizens of the night-clad city of Chaynos crowded the streets in throngs, bearing torches, blankets, and food. Refugees from the ruined city of Bendelsain stream through the city gates. Some clutch their children to their breasts, others carry as much of their property as they can manage on their backs. Wagon loads of women and children, carts bearing the sick or injured, elderly people riding horses and mules, even a swineherd with what remains of his flock, all exhausted from fear and flight. Many are battered and bloody, or burned, or broken. They cry for out in supplication.

Priests of Solanasia have left their mighty temple to oversee the reception of the refugees, offering succor and surcease, healing who they can, helping who they cannot with salves, balms, bandages, and fresh water. Constables and guardsmen attempt to keep order, shouting orders and pushing citizens back and away from the surviving citizens of Bendelsain, but their efforts are futile as more and more survivors force their way through the gates to seek refuge.

Amidst the chaos, a strange hush falls over the city as first one or two eyes, and then tens, and hundreds, all turn in confusion as the dark is pushed away from their fair city. Anyone strong enough turns to face the spectacle, stunned by what they see.

A sun rises in the west.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gwydion can see the upturned faces of citizen and refugee alike as he approaches, awed by the Mantle of Solanasia. The paladin instinctively understands that the raw, untempered power of his goddess would incinerate the innocents below. To protect them from an agonizing fate he snuffs the flaming aura, and the air is split with the sound of a thunder clap. Instead of an orb of blinding light hanging over the city, the crowd sees a humanoid figure hovering overhead; its wings are great golden sheets of solar fire that flex and curl as they beat; its blue and white hair writhes about like tongues of flame; clutched in one hand, a sword of shimmering white light, a sunbeam made solid.

For generations to come, the children and grandchildren of those present will hear stories of the night that one city was destroyed, and another was visited by an angel, the divine made flesh.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gwydion tarried only a moment before turning toward the cathedral-fortress that is the High Noon Temple of Solanasia, where he felt the pull of his Soul Gem, and his beloved Arianwen. "Hold on," he spoke the words vehemently. "Hold on a little longer." The light of his wings, his skin, his blade, flared angrily. "I'm coming for you!"

The gleaming avatar sped away, leaving the onlookers dazed. No one quite realized it, but the feeling of hopeless despair had abated, and one of hope had seeded in their hearts.

[Arianwen Chandell]

*Although Father Karos smiled at her, there was no warmth in the gesture. Arianwen felt her mouth go dry and she pushed the plate away from her as the food she had consumed began to roll in her queasy stomach.

"You are here as bait, my dear." Karos stood and began pacing down the length of the table. "As I said, I am a hunter. My prey is diabolical and canny, and I cannot bring it down without a lure for my trap." As he drew closer, his eyes appraised Arianwen. "You, dear girl, will bring me what I desire." He fell silent as he came around the end of the table, and came to a halt behind Arianwen's chair. "And you know what I desire quite well." The menace in his voice was not abated by its hushed tone as he leaned down to whisper, "Gwydion Shadowbane."

While she had expected as much, Arianwen still let out a gasp of shock at the mention of Gwydion. She did not understand most of what the horrid man said, but she understood enough to realise that she was here as bait. Gwydion would know she had been brought here and he would come to her rescue, and to his impending death if Father Karos had his way.

She stared up at him with wide haunted eyes as he continued his rant about Gwydion, trying desperately to follow what it was he was saying. She refused to believe the horrible tales he was telling her, things that Gwydion had supposedly done. She had not known him for that long, but she knew him well enough to know his heart and what he was capable of. Shaking her head in protest, Arianwen sniffed and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall as he continued to speak. She jumped in shock as he slammed his fork down, and her eyes fell to his robe and the offensive protrusion she saw there. Although he had “saved” her from the earlier potential rape, Arianwen realised with a sickening thud in her chest that he meant to deliver that torment himself.

She was saved by a knock on the door and she let out a long shaky breath as Geybal appeared again. She tried desperately to communicate the situation through her eyes, but his were fixed firmly on Father Karos as he delivered his message. She was in too much of a state to hear what Geybal said, but she did hear the evil man tell him to take her back to her room and to confiscate the dress.

Quickly, and with enough force to knock her chair over, Arianwen pushed back from the table and rose shakily to her feet. She used the distraction of the falling chair to grab the knife off the table and tuck it up into her sleeve before she ran over to Geybal. Arianwen cowered beside him, unable to look towards Father Karos who merely snorted his disgust before leaving the room. Tugging on Geybals’ sleeve, Arianwen began to cry.

~Please…. Bad. Man.. ~ she pointed towards the open doorway where Father Karos had just disappeared. ~Wants.. hurt.. Arianwen… Please… help…?~

Geybal looked at her sadly. ~Please don’t cry. He wont hurt you… he.. needs you. Don’t you see? Gwydion is the prize, you are the bait.. he wont kill you…~ He trailed off as he realised that just because Father Karos needed her alive, that didn’t mean that he needed her intact. Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat at seeing Arianwen so distraught, he straightened his shoulders and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

~I am sorry… I .. wouldn’t know what to do even if I could help…Father Karos.. he.. has my father. I must do as I am told.. I am sorry. Please.. come, I need to take you back to your room. ~

Arianwen began to sob quietly as her hair hung down around her face. She followed meekly behind Geybal, giving the young boy little reason to glance back to make sure she was doing as instructed. As they reached the t –section at the end of one hallway, he looked back at her as her crying had stifled to a few sniffs here and there. Arianwen met his gaze, fingering the knife that was hidden by her long sleeve. She was loathe to use the blade on Geybal as he had been nothing but kind to her. However, she knew that if she returned to her room and lost the gown, she would have nowhere to hide the blade for when the next man came to “visit” her.

Geybal looked away sadly and continued to the right, not noticing when Arianwen walked away quietly to the left. She walked quickly and quietly, checking behind her to make sure that Geybal was out of sight. Once he was, she began to run.

She had no idea where she was heading to, the hallways seemed to be an endless maze of doors and swinging lanterns. Only a few times did she have to duck into an open doorway or dark shadow to hide from one or two patrolmen making their rounds. Their talk was full of Gwydion and his return. So it was true then, he had come to rescue her. Arianwen had no idea where she should go to wait for him, but she knew that she had to get out of here. Running blindly, she had no idea how long she ran for before she reached an ascending spiral staircase. Without pause, Arianwen sprinted up the stairs which seemed to go forever before coming to another hallway. Slowing now, as her energy began to wane and her recently consumed meal threatened to make another appearance, she came to the end of the hallway to find a large oak door surrounded by cobbled stone. Skidding to a halt, Arianwen stared up at the large door as she tried to get her breath. A cold breeze was coming from under the door, suggesting that it could possibly lead outside. Of course, it could also lead into somewhere that she should not be going, and this thought caused her to pause with her hand on the heavy handle.

Voices rose from the hallway behind her, and although they were not raised in alarm yet, she knew that soon they would spy her standing in front of the large door. Taking a deep breath, Arianwen turned the handle and was relieved to find the door unlocked. Opening the large door with a loud creak that filled the hallway behind her, Arianwen took a hesitating step into the darkness beyond the hallway and closed the door behind her. *