The most interesting part of N0's post is his references to the "good guys" and the "bad guys". Because, really, we still have no idea of the identity of either one. Quickly glancing over the updates, I see four different subplots, and they don't seem connected at all. Well, Kaz is looking for Coppertop, I think, but that's about it. Would it be possible to develop the main plot (whichever it is... I assume Coppertop's) before introducing new characters?
pageclaim in the name of simpler plotlines

It's just the beginning. I haven't really established a plot yet, I'm just collecting characters so far. It'll come together.

The riddle sucks, I know.

She was on a bridge.
She had been disarmed; Shale lay only a short distance away, on the edge of the bridge. Arath stood over her, sneering at her.
She dove for Shale, but her injured leg gave out and she fell short with a gasp, outstretched hand not grasping the sword but knocking it over the edge. Arath's shriek of fury echoed eerily; he raised his blade for the final strike as he promised her death. And then he gasped as Shinyso cut him down, whispering his defiance.
Arath grew taller, shifted into the menacing form of Beren Deathwreaker, his ceaseless thread of insanity insinuating itself into her very soul. He loomed over her, and there was no Sharrakamov or Pirelann to save her now. His dark, hidden gaze touched her, froze her in place.
Coppertop woke with a gasp to the familiarity of the Phantom Eclipse's controls. Claw glanced over at her from where he was sprawled in the gunner's seat, concerned and understanding.
"Nightmares again?"
She nodded slowly. "Arath and Beren again. No big deal."
Claw looked at her skeptically, but said nothing.
The light on the communit was flashing. Copper activated the device. A ruffled-looking Kaz appeared on the screen.
"Copper? Where are you?" he demanded crossly.
"Hi, Kaz. Nice to see you too. How's it going?"
"What? Oh, fine. Where are you guys?"
"Somewhere between Xahra and Firen, I should think. Why?"
"Do you know how hard it is to get ahold of you?" Kaz complained, ignoring her query. Copper smirked.
"Mm. I do indeed."
"You don't need to be so obviously pleased about it ..."
"What is it, Kaz? I'm pretty certain you didn't call me up to chat."
"Actually, you're right. I've a message for you."
"Who's it from?" Copper asked sharply.
"A shapeshifter named Mehr. It's a dreadfully cryptic being, loves riddles. It said that this one would be extremely important to you."
"Shoot."
"Here goes nothing then:
They seek to cut the golden thread
tenuous spidersilk, strength beyond time.
No thread bind them thus to this plane
and that which they cannot have shall be destroyed.
They seek to cut the golden thread
it laces each soul round in silence
not a single strand alone, but a tapestry
woven of golden light
so hard to unravel in its entirety.
They seek to cut the golden thread
each a small part of the whole.
They cannot understand what they seek to destroy
this: the golden thread."
"... What?"
"I said don't ask me."
"You did not."
"Well, that's what Mehr said."
Copper sighed. "It's nonsense."
"It's a riddle," Kaz corrected. "There's a difference."
"Oh, really?" She sighed. "If your friend expects me to know the answer, he's mistaken."
Kaz shrugged. "It sure didn't tell me the answer. Mehr likes making people find out on their own."
"Yeah."
"Look, uh, I gotta go. Lemme know next time you're on Carrotus."
"Sure. Later, then."
"Later." Kaz's image vanished.
Copper shook her head and glanced at Claw questioningly.
"Mehr?"
Claw only nodded.
"I think we'd better pay Carrotus a visit."

Ok, I've now been thourghly riddled. Ouch.

It'll make sense eventually, trust me. I still think it sucks.

I bet it will in that way that nobody ever thinks of but makes sense. Like that one Jimmy Carter riddle.

Kaz

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Eh?

When Defalcon awoke, swathed in bandages, he was alone.
The first thing he was aware of was pain. He ached all over; the parallel gashes on his back throbbed insistantly. He groaned and closed his eyes again. The image of the spider-bot came to mind, and his eyes flew open faster than he'd shut them.
A flicker of movement on his peripheral vision made him turn his head awkwardly. He met the calm brown eyes of the slender rabbit who had just entered.
Were Defalcon standing, the stranger wouldn't reach his shoulder. Yet something about the way he held himself poised, coupled with the measuring calm in his eyes, convinced Defalcon that this ivory-furred rabbit was not at all helpless.
"Awake at last," the rabbit remarked, his soft, light voice shattering the silence. He moved gracefully to the foot of the hospital bed. "I'm Dazir."
"Dazir ...?" Defalcon found his voice.
"Just Dazir," Dazir said, giving him a steady look with just a hint of challenge.
"Defalcon Phoenix," and he coughed awkwardly.
"Well, Defalcon, I'm told that you're suffering from a multitude or minor injuries, blood loss, and shock. I'll leave it to you to decide just how badly off that leaves you."
"In bed for a week or two, I assume?" At Dazir's wry smirk, Defalcon rolled his eyes. "As if."
"I know how it goes," Dazir agreed. "But I saw the damage those things inflicted on you, and I'm not sure I believe the "minor" part of the injuries."
"I'm not sure I disagree with you ..."
Dazir looked thoughtful, and pensive. Finally he met Defalcon's eyes directly.
"What were they?"
"My worst nightmare," Defalcon said quietly. Dazir favored him with a skeptical look. "No, really. They literally appeared out of nowhere. And they vanished when I destroyed them."
"The one that attacked me didn't vanish ..."
"Are you sure?" Defalcon gave Dazir a keen look, noting for the first time the shallow slashes across the other's face.
"I'm not," Dazir admitted. "Dare showed up a few minutes later, and I never thought about it."
"Well, there you go," Defalcon said resignedly. He paused. "Who's Dare?"
"I'm Dare," said the silvery-blue rabbit leaning casually on the door frame. Defalcon blinked. The pain must really be getting to him; he hadn't noticed Dare's entrance. "Dazir's been asking the wrong questions," he continued, odd blue eyes flicking briefly to his small companion. His voice was loud after Dazir's quietness, and considerably deeper. "'What' doesn't interest me nearly as much as 'why'."
"... eh?"
"Why'd the bots attack you? Did you provoke them? Were you ambushed? Were they stalking you?"
"I don't know why they attacked me. I was heading for the spaceport. And as far as I know, they ambushed me with no provocation."
Dazir had left quietly, and Dare studied Defalcon thoughtfully. The blue and white rabbit seemed to have told the truth. Finally he broke the silence.
"Well, the medics are going to hate our guts, but if you like you can leave with us."
"As if I'd rather stay," Defalcon snorted. "Yeah, I'll go with you."
Dazir slipped back in. He wordlessly handed Nightfire and Nightwind to their owner. Defalcon's brilliant smile as he took the twin blades said everything.

YaY! More story!

Plot hints, but they don't make it seem traditional. Hm hmm..

Well, since this seems to die unless I post every other day, I guess I'd better get writing, yes?

Elexei flicked a thumb over the edge of his katana, then slid it home in its sheath. He drew his second blade and tested its edge as well.
"Going somewhere, Mr. Rayden?"
Elexei spun, and found himself facing the blaster that Tama had casually aimed at him. The communicatons 'officer' smirked, and finished her comment, "or are you just taking a vacation that we're not aware of?"
"Vacation, no," Elexei said carefully.
"I see. Deserting, are we?"
"Actually, I was just going to, er, give Jheran my, uh, resignation," Elexei said quickly. He made as if to leave. Tama's aim steadied.
"I think you'd better stay right there, Elexei."
"What are you gonna do, Tama, shoot me?"
"If I must."
Elexei watched the senior Bloodflame warily. He shouldn't have been surprised that Tama had known of his plans; the self-titled comm-op often knew things that she shouldn't have.
"All right, let's go," she said coolly, moving up behind Elexei. He felt the muzzle of her weapon, cold against his back.
First mistake: failed to disarm opponent.
"Where?"
"We'll see just what Jheran has to say about deserters."
Elexei felt a brief stab of panic. He was willing to bet both katanas that Jheran's reaction would not be favorable. The blaster at the small of his back urged him forward.
Second mistake: physical contact with metal object.
An arc of electricity leapt across the barrel of Tama's blaster as Elexei dove forward; Tama reflexively pulled the trigger. The blaster charge overloaded, and the entire thing exploded in Tama's hands. She cried out in pain and surprise.
Third mistake: no secondary weapon.
Elexei came to his feet and brought the katana in his hands around, slaying Tama where she stood.
Reaching down, he closed the dead rabbit's eyes. She looked vaguely surprised. Elexei felt a moment of regret.
"You shouldn't have stopped me, Tama," he whispered to the fallen comm-op. He cleaned his blade and sheathed it. "You knew better." He turned and walked away.

Tephro watched the pale gold rabbit for a long moment, then turned back to Jheran. The tawny Bloodflame raised an eyebrow at his second.
"Tama's dead," Tephro said neutrally. "She always did have a thing about deserters."
"She did," Jheran agreed. "I told her to leave Elexei alone, too."
"You wanna kill him?"
Jheran stretched cautiously. His half-healed side flared with pain and he winced. "No. Can't blame the kid. I've done much the same thing in the past."
"I remember," Tephro said, his grin flashing white. He turned as a rangy canine approached them, hand on hilt.
"Ah, Mangan," Jheran said easily. Mangan Tasar nodded to his captain and bared his teeth briefly at Tephro, who returned the snarl with a sneer.
"My captain," he said, in his deep-throated bass. His dark eyes kept straying towards Tephro. "You have orders?"
"Mm. I want you to inform the other Bloodflame extensions that there's a young rabbit I would like to speak to. If they come across Elexei Rayden, I want them to send him to me. Unharmed." He pinned the dog with his gaze, until the canine nodded reluctantly. "And, when you have time, send a message to other bands in the area about young Elexei's turncoat tendencies."
"Of course," Mangan said, eyes fixed on Tephro. The black rabbit deliberately turned his back on the dog. Mangan growled deep in his throat.
"Mangan," Jheran said. The Bloodflame officer turned reluctantly back to his leader. Jheran stepped forward, blue eyes deceptively friendly. Before Mangan could move, Jheran had his throat in a vice-like grasp.
"Tephro is my second, Mangan. I advise that you reconsider challenging him. I would very much hate for anything to upset Tephro." Jheran gazed up at the dog, who topped him by a full handspan. Mangan whined frantically as the hand on his throat tightened; then Jheran released him, causing the other to stagger back.
Thoroughly humiliated, Mangan turned to go. Jheran's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Oh, before you go. Get some of your friends and dig a grave for Tama. There's a spot over by the trees that should be ideal."
Mangan snarled and slunk off. Tephro turned to watch him go, and looked at Jheran queryingly.
"You anticipated Tama's death."
"I didn't really think she'd listen to my warning. I was right."
"Mangan is not going to love you for relegating him to gravedigger."
"He doesn't have to love me," Jheran said coldly. "Just obey. That's all."

HOW IS IT. YOU SAY THAT I WRITE BETTER THAN THIS.

I DISCONCUR.

Hmm, so many variables to setup, I hope you're just not jumping from enviorment to enviorment because of writer's block.

Don't worry Kaz, there's a method to my madness =P

Two words: YaY!

Yet another excellent chappie. One small problem, though, is that Tephro and Jheran (or at least Jheran) have always confused me as to their true allegiances, (sp?) as I believe they have switched sides and pretended to switch sides many times in the past. Possibly you could clear up their alignment up to the beginning of this story.

Ah. Tephro and Jheran are mercenaries. They will work for whatever side offers them the most, which means they're not really good or evil. For example, Jheran worked for Irinn in the previous story until Chaos Hydra offered him something better.

/lecture

4I: There are quite a few people who write better than I do. You happen to be one of them. =P

After reading your contribution to the Nightgate thread, I feel compelled to disagree even further.

"Help, Help!" Screams the blonde.

*Flashing blue and red lights approach from the distance*

"What happend here?" asks the guy in the uniform.

"This thread is dying! Please somebody help!" says the blonde.

*out jumps the nurse with the shock reviver thingy"

"Clear!" shouts the nurse.

*thread shakes violently, and suddenly jumps to the top of the fourm*

"I'm OK!" says the thread.

`N0

Originally Posted by N0B0DY

"Help, Help!" Screams the blonde.

*Flashing blue and red lights approach from the distance*

"What happend here?" asks the guy in the uniform.

"This thread is dying! Please somebody help!" says the blonde.

*out jumps the nurse with the shock reviver thingy"

"Clear!" shouts the nurse.

*thread shakes violently, and suddenly jumps to the top of the fourm*

"I'm OK!" says the thread.

`N0

Decaying, defibrillator, and a banana, in that order.

Originally Posted by 4I Falcon

Decaying, defibrillator, and a banana, in that order.

Now a sig quote, because it makes no sense OOC.

Sweet deal.

I didn't think it made sense IN context, but maybe thats why it was funny.

Yep, that's me. Always ready to poke fun at common sense.

This is SO not dead. I just need to type stuff up. And as proof, a really really short part to make N0B0DY happy.

Nobody stood on the balcony, bathed in silver moonlight. He stretched his wings to their full span, then flicked the tips and folded them again. He sighed and looked up at the familiar skies of Mechaius.
"... N0?"
"Yeah." He turned to face his sister Kristy. She looked vaguely ill.
"N0, something is really wrong."
"Here?"
"No, no, nothing specific."
"When? Is it something that's happening now?"
"Partly," Kristy said, concentrating. "But mostly in the future."
"Does it affect us?"
"N0, it affects everybody!" she cried. N0 swallowed his next comment unspoken and looked at his sister closely.
"Are you okay?"
"It feels like I'm upside down or something, that's all," she said sarcastically. "It's making me dizzy. I'll be fine."
"Um. You go inside and tell Mom."
"And you?"
"I will find Tiger. Or someone with a ship, I think."

Two words: YaY!

H'ray!

Or something.

It ate everyone @_@

I believe you CT, in that "It's no longer NonDenominationalWinterHoliday Holiday, but I still have freetime, honest!!" way.

Oh, you. Everybody's a cynic critic.

I am only staying here to just see if this finishes well and as an evaluation of what I'm staying for.

It's really cold here now that more than half the people I looked up to are gone.

I wasn't one of them, was I?

Hehe. If this is confusing, tell me.

They were shadowy shapes flitting through her thoughts, testing the limits she had placed on them. For the first time she doubted their strength, wondered if the bonds had enough power to hold.
Find me something with power, she had said, and the daymare minions she had called went. But they did not return. She could feel their reluctance to give up on the target they had found, but she had not ordered loss of life. She told them to return, to find a new target, and they refused on both counts. And a good few of them had been sent back by the very artifacts she had sought to steal, banished beyond the Abyssal Wall that protected the living from horror.
The hold command had stopped them. Until she could call them back she would not rescind it. She wanted power, but she didn't want to kill for it. Not yet.
The blue Carrotan sky was darkening when she finally turned the carefully marked pentagon on the floor. Summoning was risky, and she was not particularly gifted at it; it was her careful planning and attention to every necessary detail that had allowed her to succeed thus far.
The runes etched onto the floor flared with a weak blue light as she fed power into the magical cage. Doubt gnawed in the back of her mind. Suppose her control slipped? What if one of the runes faltered? She pierced the Abyssal Wall, calling for one of her minions.
Immersed in her self-doubt as she was, she didn't notice at first the shape her minion had assumed. She looked up and stared into her own eyes.
Her replica laughed, quietly insane, and reached forward. Blue light flared as it came into contact with the pentagon construct. Doubt assailed her again, and the light died. She gasped and sought blindly to banish the minion. The daymare shrieked and vanished as the Abyssal Wall closed, dragging it back into the Abyss.
Half-panicked, she poured enough power into the pentagon for it to be self-sustaining and closed off the channel between it and her. Her doubt would not affect it again.
Something chittered softly behind her. She whirled, terror welling inside her again. One of her captive minions gazed at her calmly, in its Abyssal form.
/You called us./
"Yes, I did, yes," she snapped. "I'm finished with you for now. Return to the Abyss."
/We cannot pierce the Wall. You must send us./
"Yes -" She broke the pentagon long enough for the daymare to enter it.
In her residual panic, she failed to adequately pierce the Abyssal Wall. The pentagon sought a location that did not exist in reality, and settled instead for a random location.
A shape filled the pentagon, huge, humanoid, armored. Where its body might have showed through that thick iron was empty space, save for its face, a glowing green death's-head staring out from within a thoroughly evil horned helmet. It looked down at her paralyzed shape ponderously, then took a step forward. Blue light flared and died. It halted briefly and gazed at her again. She harbored a brief hope that the pentagon would hold it.
The demon raised its axe with negligent ease, then struck with blinding speed that was completely at odds with its heavily armored form.
She never knew what hit her.
The creature stepped over the pentagon as if it did not exist, breaking the barrier and kicking the nameless mage's mangled body aside to fall across one of the blue runes. It strode away, not looking back, destroying everything in its path.

Once broken, however briefly, the pentagon slipped back into its familiar channels, following the path that pierced the Abyssal Wall and calling automatically for the daymares.
They streamed across steadily, unbound, uncontrolled. They fled the confining pentagon across the break provided by the slain summoner's remains.
Darker things than daymares sought to cross, but the bridge of power was attuned only to the daymares, and rejected all other attempts. Self-sustaining and self-powering, the pentagon glowed bluely.
The daymares already controlled by the summoner's bonds were freed. The hold command dissolved and the lesser demons joined their kin, laughing silently.

Mehr turned in the shadow-strewn night, taut as a wire, senses telling the shapeshifter everything it did not want to hear.
Mental, awake, powerful, unfettered, prowled the Carrotan night.
Riddles were the farthest thing from Mehr's thoughts in that moment.

Not confusing in the least, but then again, I do know a lot of the background of pentagrams ;|.

It's going to get interesting now that you've dragged in darkness.

One word: "uh, YaY?"

Defalcon flexed his half-healed left arm cautiously, and suppressed a wince as his abused muscles complained loudly. He adjusted the blades slung across his back, and picked his jacket up.
Something moved in his peripheral vision. He froze, casting his glance around the hospital room. Nothing shifted in the shadowed corners. The room was as it should be. Yet that flicker of movement had been real. Defalcon reached back, brushing the palm of his hand across the hilt of one sword, loosening the other in its sheath. He dropped his hand to his blaster rifle, curling his fingers around the reassuring weight of the handgrip.
Flicker.
He looked up.
"There is just no way!"
The spider-bot glared at him malevolently from its upside-down position on the ceiling. It chittered softly, seeming more alive than machine. Its movements were fast and jerky as it skittered across the ceiling towards him. Defalcon's eyes widened and he jerked his blaster rifle from its holster. The spider-bot sprang at him as he fired twice; neither shot seemed to do any damage despite connecting. Discarding the blaster, Defalcon went for his swords and threw himself backwards, the memory of what those steel talons could do still vivid.
Missing its target, the robot landed on the floor and leapt at him again. Nightfire sheared away two claw-tipped jointed legs; the thing screamed and bled black ichor. A moment later it fell lifelessly to the polished white floor as Defalcon decapitated it.
Dazir burst into the room, Dare a split second behind him. They had just enough time to see the mangled robot on the floor before three more scuttled into the room by way of the ceiling. Their sinister eyes were fixed on Defalcon.
Defalcon heard Dazir's breath hiss in as the first robot sprang at them directly from the ceiling. The second charged down the far wall and came at them across the floor. The third clung to the doorframe, blocking any retreat. Defalcon had the time to realize that these three were larger than the first, perhaps the length of his torso, before the leader hit them.
Defalcon brought Nightwind around in a long, sweeping arc that caught the robot at the height of its leap, shearing through it in a shower of sparks. The halves fell twitching to the floor, exposed wires sparking, tubes spraying black oily ichor in a violent arc across the room.
Dare had pounced on the second as it charged them. The creatures were susceptible to sharp steel as they were not to bullets or blasterfire; Dare's sharp dagger severed three of the robot's left legs. Unbalanced, the thing began going in circles. A second blow from Dare drove the dagger hilt-deep in its head, causing the robot to collapse. The silvery-blue rabbit coolly yanked his ichor-stained blade out and beheaded the robot.
At about the time that Dare's victim was going in circles, the third robot shifted in preparation to strike. Dazir recognized the movement as a prelude to attack, and tackled the unprepared robot first, knocking it from its perch on the doorframe. Clinging to its back with both feet and one hand, he began methodically slashing the tubes exposed at the neck and leg joints, spattering the walls and floor with ichor. The robot bucked wildly against Dazir's hold, weakening visibly. It collapsed finally, and Dazir released his grip, retreating as it thrashed around on the floor. Jointed legs scrabbled fruitlessly as it sought for a foothold on the smooth, waxed floor. Defalcon put it out of its misery with a blow from Nightwind.
The three looked at each other nervously. Dare broke the silence.
"Those - those were -"
"Yeah," Defalcon agreed. "They are."
"Were," Dazir correctedf. "They were." He pointed over to where the robots had fallen. "They're not anymore."
Black liquid liberally splashed the floor, walls, ceiling, and rabbits. But the machines themselves had completely vanished. The ichor was the only trace that they had even existed.
"Well I don't know about you," Defalcon said after a second, "but I am totally freaked out."
Dare nodded. Dazir started to say something, but froze as a soft chittering sound reached them.
"That's it," Dare said, "let's go."
There was no argument.

Two words: YaY!

Haha. Thanks.

Yaychappie!

Hah, you are as adept at writing action scenes as I am inept at writing them.

I AM IN MUCH ENJOYMENT OF TEH LAST TWO CHAPTERS. DESPITE MY NONRESPONSIVENESS.

I DO NOT KNOW WHY I AM TYPING IN ALL CAPS. I APPEAR TO BE HOLDING THE SHIFT KEY ON PURPOSE.

DONUT.

You're not a bad writer, Acid, not by a long shot.

4I: Tim Hortons.

Tim Horton's is the reason why I type all in caps?

Mm, probably. You never know what they put in their coffee.