(( this thread in no way interferes with any other threads Druid is involved with all others will progress normally within their time frames))

A wheezing cough bloodies the handkerchief in his gnarled hands as the old man finishes penning a letter to perhaps his most dearest of friends. Folding the letter carefully and pushing it into its envelope he sealed the edges with soft wax. Taking up a wooden box he slowly removes his mask and handles the cracked companion lovingly. So many memories within such an unassuming object it would perhaps boggle those who didn't know of his expansive history.

With a slow exhale of breath that carries with it a mixture of relief and resignation he sets his mask into the box so it rests in an impression of sanguine felt. Closing the box and placing the letter atop of it he hands the packages to one of his attendants. The young man had been a godsend to him this past handful of years. Would the lad even know what lay in store by the end of the week"

"Are the others seen to Lolthario?" vocal chords quaver with the inquiry as the young man aids him in rising.

"Yes, Druid. Emma, Etsie, Markus, Ren, and Ulfr begin their apprenticeships tomorrow morning. Marie is staying on with me...until the end." Elegant fingers the shade of alabaster grip his master's arm gently, but firm while helping him move from the writing desk to the bed. With the care of a loyal butler he dabs a wet cloth over the older man's brow.

Almost twenty winters he stood at a lithe 5'11. The Elvin heritage in his veins dominates his facial features with high cheekbones and a near imperious gaze. Eternally patient with a dancer's grace and slow to anger temperament the lad could pass through any Elvin village without molestation except for his hair. Silken strands of a deep fiery red hung about his shoulders in even layers; a curse from his human father that kept him from ever truly being part of his mother's world. Red hair and purple eyes that were near identical those of the man lying before him like an aged reflection in a mirror.

"Good. All should be ready then." Propped on his pillows Druid closed his eyes as his physical body felt like eighty pounds of lead.

"And what of the others" The students you've had" Gemethyst, Wyheree, and Sarah' Did you want them to know?" Lolthario set the cloth in its bowl of water and wrinsed before daubing Druid's head again.

"No. While I'm sure they would attend, I do believe my passing is best gone unnoticed by them. Besides, Wyheree knows what is coming as she trained you to control your powers. She tempered the fire in your soul. Only one I care to see is her" Exhaling he closes his eyes and lifts a hand to dismiss his attendant. "Leave me, I have a thousand memories to look upon'then a million afterward."

Without a word the half-elf rose and made his exit from the room, taking the bowl and wash cloth with him to leave the old man to his thoughts of what is to come.

A frown came to Lolthario's features at the soft resonance of a knock at the main door. Drawn from his packing the steward was a ghost passing through the magically enhanced halls of Druid's 'hut'. Though on the outside it looked to be no more than a one room building, the inside was far grander. Like a deck of cards it housed fifty-two rooms that were ever changing. The young elf often tried mapping them all, but each day showed the futility in his efforts. One day room eight could be a Jurassic jungle, and the next a frozen tundra.

That anyone would knock came as the most peculiar since he knew that no one ever came to visit Druid, and certainly his siblings wouldn't have time off yet to come by. Dressed in a simple tunic of pale green and gray breeches of wool he pulls his belt one notch tighter about his narrow waist before opening the door just a crack to see who is on the other side.

Silent for many heartbeats he looks upon the woman at their door curiously. His piercing gaze takes in every feature before standing upright and opening the door. He thinks curiously to himself. "May I help you Madame? The master said nothing of expected visitors." Playing it safe he neither blocked the door with his body nor stood to where she could simply walk through. His tone polite, even earnest, in its question posed to her.

To his credit, Lolthario didn't blanch at her statement. With the faintest of coughs he stood up straighter and stepped aside to allow her entrance. "He told me to expect you." There were questions the young elf wanted to ask but knew better. This wasn't the time for them. "I will show you to him then."

Chyrie continued to stare at him for a few moments longer before she stepped through the door. The mask she held was lowered back to her midsection and hugged to herself. "How bad is it?" Her voice wavered only slightly.

"He can no longer move about unaided. At this point the host is the one holding on to him, though we don't know why." Quietly closing the door he glides past her with a rhythmic grace. This night the main hall was a large chamber with two circular stairs leading to the second floor. Statues of angels and demons at war decorate much of the space along with a vast mural across the ceiling depicting the life of one angel in particular. From rise to his fall, to a love for one of the fae, it was a spiraling story made of many loops about the vast dome above. Keeping to an easy pace, he led her up the stairs to the second story landing and stopped at the central door just beyond them. Set into a golden arch way, its wood work was lush with roses carved into the grane, little fairies sitting on thorns or hiding between their petals.

"Perhaps he's waiting for something." She murmurs softly as she follows him. Her kaleidoscope eyes fluttered from place to place as she followed him. There was the faintest of winces as she saw the end of that mural.

When they reached the door, she paused and brushed a fingertip over one of the little fairies. She purposely kept her eyes off the elf. "What is your name?"

"Lolthario, Madame. Lolthario Star-Shimmer." he answered her politely before taking opening the door for her and stepping aside. He knew Druid would want this meeting to be one observed in solitude. "He's just inside. There's a bell beside the bed, if you need anything just chime it and I will come quickly."

She nodded slowly before stepping into the opened door. "Thank you, Lolthario." Her voice was genuine in her kindness, but the strain of the situation was still on her face. The mask was hugged a bit tighter and then she quietly continued into the room. Even her heels, which normally clicked loudly on hard wood and stone tiles, were somehow muffled.

The door closes behind her with a gentle click. A soft wheezing comes from the left side of the long bed in the room. Above is an illusion of open sky mirroring the current outside weather. To the right of the bed is a simple writing desk with paper and an inkwell sitting out. A lone dresser rests in the corner looking unused and quiet. "I thought you'd come..." he chokes out from his place of rest on the bed, arms pinning the blankets to his sides like lead beams.

"You knew I would. I'm shallow, not heartless." She murmurs softly as she sits on the edge of the bed next to him. One of her hands reached to take the one of his that was closest to her. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"You bought that eh?" he says gently as his hand turns to hold hers. He turns his head to look at her with a wan smile. The eye resting within the ruined side of his face looking up blindly as it had turned a milky white. "You're here. That is enough." Propped up on two pillows he lowers his head back to close his eyes as a tremor runs through his body, angelic features contorting in pain. "This is the most stubborn human I've ever met. He won't let go, and won't tell me why."

The mask was placed on the table next to the bed before her other hand reached up to gently stroke what was left of his hair. "They only hold on when they feel they have some sort of unfinished business. Unfortunately, I'm not capable of knowing what that might be."

"Neither am I. He has always been free to resume control at any point. Free to live without me and that which I've granted him. He knows what waits on the other side as his service guaranteed him safe passage." coughing heavily another painful shiver contorts his face, pushing it into her hand.

She bit her lip to hold in the tears at seeing him like this. She took a deep breath before leaning over and placing a gentle kiss to his forehead and softly whispering. "Then I will stay as long as it takes. I won't let you go alone."

"I'm....sorry..." he whispers gently under the kiss as her hair passes over his skin. The hand she holds grips tightly as he lets out a ragged breath and loses focus in his remaining good eye.

"It's alright. I still love you." She whispers back as she leans back just enough to watch him and hear his breathing. Her own breathing was being held time to time to keep her from bursting out into sobs.

His grip on her hand falls away as the faint light in the room brightens to that of the noon day sun. The scent of death and decay fading as it is brushed aside. A sense of peace rests on his features as the old man looks at something far away. "...the gates..." he murmurs while looking over her shoulder."Go Martin? let go of me and be at peace..."

She doesn't look over her shoulder to see what he's looking at. She's fairly certain she wouldn't see it anyway. She just gently strokes his cheek with her finger. One tear slipped out and down her cheek, but she pretended to not notice it.

Lying limp upon the bed Druid exhales his final breath as some internal fire slowly begins to consume his mortal body. Smoke rises from his now cold lips and sightless eyes before his skin darkens with the body falling apart rapidly. Subtly a malevolent aura skirts the edges of the light produced by his passing. The brilliance suddenly vanishes as though stolen away, the source of sinister energy gone with it.

"I..." She pauses at the way he says her name and she stares at him. She shook her head after a moment and looked back into the bag. "I think I found where tia veji went. This....is going to really really suck." She moved out of the room slowly. "Could you find me a nice clear room' Something that doesn't have a lot of expensive and breakable things in it?"

"Other than this one?" While not the time for humor, something in him couldn't resist. But he knew why she wanted else where. This room was sacred. "Follow me. The Oasis room will work."

She nodded and silently followed him. The bag in one hand, the mask held tightly in the other. Without consciously realizing she had done it, shadows lurched and swirled about the bag to keep that portal and whatever was on the other side from reaching for anything else that it didn't have any business yoinking away.

They didn't travel far as he led her through the library and its three-hundred-sixty degree book shelves to a small garden behind the hut. A few vegetable gardens were scattered here and there among stone benches and topiary depicting lewd acts between women, men, animals, and various Outsiders. The pair came to a stop before a marble arch, the smell of the sea coming through it as the inside showed them a portal to a moon lit beach. Without breaking stride he walked right through. Coming to a stop he looked back into the garden to await her entrance. "He always came here when the seizures were at their worst...when he still could."

She followed him easily through the arch. But her gaze locked onto the bag and the portal within it once she got to the other side. Mostly making sure it wasn't freaking out at being taken through another portal. "This is perfect, thank you. Could you hold this for me, please" Be careful with it." She held out the worn mask to the young elf.

He took the mask from her reverently. Fingertips feeling the age of it and wondering at what all it had seen. Turning it over in his hands, Lolthario felt a pull close to compulsion to put the mask on but resisted. His focus brought to Chryrie as he watched her. "What do you plan to do' And what can I do to aid" I....was taught some by Lady Wyheree..."

She set the bag down on the sands, moving it so the portal was exposed to the open air. She then flicked her fingers over it so the portal would become more visible to the naked eye. "I was thinking I would widen this portal a bit. Just enough to see what?s on the other side. If need be, go through it, obliterate what?s stolen him from us, and bring him back to this side. You may want to keep that portal door closed so nothing comes out and goes through it." She points to the door they had just walked through that lead to the gardens.

Not arguing he points his hand at the portal, the red in his hair brightening like living fire before azure flames flare to life on both sides of the planar doorway. "Even a living fire can't pass through that." He offered her a nod, hair turning to its usual subdued red.

"I see why he liked you." She murmurs softly. Her eyes then flared up brightly as she reached toward the portal. The shadows twitched and lurched at her command. Whispy fingers reached out and started to pull at the portal to widen it.

"Like me enough to have an Ice mage teach me to control it, not himself." His voice barely holds the faint traces of resentment, but more from the recent passing than anything long festering.

She would've said more, but she was concentrating on the portal and making it larger. If it put up any resistance, she just pulled that much harder. She had moved past the point of grief and was now entering the territory of rage. Someone stole away her loved one, and she was FURIOUS.

The portal fought back at first as its anchoring pulled at her tendrils, grudgingly growing from the size of a fist to a globe. The other side displays an abandoned dining hall of obsidian. Flayed bodies hung above the table, their intestines dangling like sausages at a butcher. The chairs were all pushed in, places neatly made though many disturbing courses remained half-eaten as though some grand party had just ended and the guests moved elsewhere.

She didn't blanch at the sight, although the elf boy probably would. She made a note in the back of her head to check on his mental state once this was over. Her lip just curled into a sneer as she pushed and pulled that portal just a bit larger. "I'm going through. If you see something come through and you're not completely positive it's me and only me" Ice it. Do you understand" Flame it. Blast it. Whatever it is you do. Just don't let it come through."

"Fuck off lady. You're not going through alone. Hell if I'm going to stand here and babysit a door." He barked right back, watching the portal open to the side of a halflings door. His hair slowly takes on the hue of living flame where it danced about his slender shoulder.

She actually paused at that. "What are you? A sailor" Just don't die. It'll take me a week to get the energy to resurrect you if this goes to he-....never mind. Just don't get killed." She flutters her fingers and then she crouched down and went through the portal into the really really gross place.

"I'm a fire soul." Is all he said to her before following through the portal, and wishing he hadn't.

Kelathe ran her fingers through the frigidly cold water, watching the swirls of pink cause an eddy in the clear water. She glanced over at the remains of the deer she had just finished cleaning, a small satisfied smile on her lips. She stood, stretching her lean form until her joints crackled.

It had been many months since she had retreated to the inner sanctuaries of the place Dru allowed her to call home. She had hidden herself away - from the enemies who might still be watching for any sign of her, from the pain of watching the woman who was her near physical copy degenerate into madness, and from the growing sense of unease she felt at the changes within her, now that she knew that there might still be others who were of her flesh and blood out there.

She dragged her thoughts back to the present, focusing on cleaning up the simple knife she carried with her, and burying the viscera of her cleaned kill. Simple movements such as these calmed her mind - a trick she had learned from Dru when the problems she faced seemed too tangled for advanced intelligence to completely puzzle out.

As she set about cutting the deer into more manageable strips to carry back to her campsite, a sudden chill gripped her heart. Pain flared in her temples, and dark laughter filled her ears. She gasped, falling backwards against the loam. She scraped her hands and arms on hidden rocks. A rush of air escaped her, as if she had been holding her breath. She reached out tentatively with her mind and found.....nothing.

The trees began to shudder around her, the world flexing in agony to the pain she felt deep in her heart. She let out a low keening noise, more animal than human. Her shoulders rippled, the flesh splitting around feathered wings that pushed their way upward and outward. Kelathe threw back her head and howled in agony as her hair flooded ebony, and her ruby eyes began to glow.

She took to the sky, her pain at the passing of her mentor, her lover, and her friend mirrored by the sudden falling of rain.

The Manor's pocket dimension had a tendency to alter time, every now and again, in spite of Wyh's efforts to keep the flow as close to RhyDin's as possible. Thus, it took a bit longer for that nagging feeling of dread to reach her - the feeling one gets when bad things have happened to a close friend, far away. In this case, the dread centered around someone she never expected to invoke such fears - her teacher, her mentor, her fellow official and friend - the man she knew as Druid.

After consulting with Roran (which involved much cuddling and nuzzling), the Ice Mage determined a plan of action. In order to minimize the risk of phasing somewhere unfamiliar, she used an ability rarely seen - one that came in handy during tournaments...

In the Oasis Room, a faint shimmer grew brighter, flecked with ice and snow, pulsing with a white light as the Ice Mage stepped through, frowning as she approached the azure flames. The frown deepened to a scowl as she analyzed the flames - while she didn't know the why, and she only had a faint idea of the who, she had a definite fix on the where. And Where....was a place she couldn't go, in any form or function.

Quickly, she decided on an alternate plan - if she couldn't go in after Druid, she'd make darn sure nothing or no one else did either. Making herself as comfortable as possible, she settled in to wait - standing guard over the gates of Hell itself.

Their attention so focused on the screaming celestial it took a moment for those in the closest vicinity to realize there came an intruder in their midsts. Belial felt the sudden alteration and looked back from his work with a sneer. "Well, what do we have here" A fae" In Hell" You're certainly not where you belong." With a gesture he let the rabel have at her. The few who saw the life stealing hesitated while two who had missed it lunged at her, their claws aiming to grab. Certainly there'd be time for a bit of fun before killing her. From his position not far away Lolthario pretends to be disgusted at what he sees. "Ugh...she licked my ear...RAPE THE BITCH!" He bellows out in close to genuine outrage making the two large demons nearby cheer in agreement and start urging their fellows into the upcoming fray.

She kept her eyes on Belial as she thrust her hands out to either side, fingers splayed wide. The shadows lurched up and around, grabbing each one that lunged at her and flinging them toward the walls. "I've been here before. I was just dead at the time. Didn't you miss me?"

"Chryrie" Well, this should be a treat..." the demon lord sneers again watching others get snatched up in her web of shadows. Moving to the edge of the stage he flexed his fingers, the air rending as long green arcs flash towards her. Out in the crowd Lolthario moves forward with the throng, though diverging away from Chryrie towards the steps leading up onto the stage. He just hoped she could hold out.

She seemed to melt into the floor as the green energy bolts passed through her, and then she reformed from the ground in an eye blink. "Oh honey. You did miss me! How's the wife and kids?" She then burst into a ball of electricity, sending out bolts in every direction at anything demon. She was a walking, talking, Tesla coil.

Bob and weave, bob and weave is what he tried to do best as demons fled, died, and lighting danced. He didn't know how well she could direct those bolts since Druid always mentioned her sanity wasn't very intact. Nearly to the stairs a great red hand spun him around.

"The bitch is over there!" A bulbous demon of deep blue growls out as he houses a wicked spear. "Fuck that!" Lolthario replied looking stricken. "I'm getting the hell out of here; you go piss on the fae and see if she doesn't send a bolt of lighting up your prick and out your ass!"

Admittedly, her sanity was part of the price she paid for the amount of power she could wield. But she did start to slowly walk away from the stage. There may have been some maniacal laughter coming from that ball of electricity that had a fae somewhere in the center. "Come and get meeeee!"

"Weakling, I should gut you where you stand..." Before Lolthario could react the demon hoists him up and hurls him at the great ball of electricity, using the smaller 'demon' as a shield for its own charge.

In the blur of white all around her, she could barely make out Lolthario flying toward her without the greatest of ease. She reached out and twisted her fingers. Lighting would shoot out at the man, but it would just barely miss him. Close enough to burn his clothing. If he was smart, he would pretend to be dead for a few minutes while the one charging after him would get a very up close and personal taste. She even let the charging demon get close enough to touch her. One touch. Just one was all she needed to steal away his essence and give her more fuel for the lightning.

His screams were a higher pitch than the elf would ever admit to anyone as the lightning flashed by, burning his arm. Landing in a crumpled heap he hardly possessed the breath to groan as the body of a burned demon fell atop his frame. Thankfully it wasn't a big demon. From on the stage Belial watches the chaos in amusement. Two of her bolts struck him but the caress came as a light tickle to the Abyssal Lord. He knew her power wasn't infinite and she would run out of demon fodder. When that happened, she would be at his mercy.

She stepped over Lolthario and moved herself so Belial would have to put his back to the orb to fully face her. And there she remained, waiting for the demons to either give up, or the supply of them to run out. No, her power was not infinite, but for every demon that touches her, she sucked up more energy to use. Hopefully he wouldn't figure this out before they were finished.

Drained, gasping, Lolthario looks up from his prostrate position with a deep groan as the scorched stink of his own body fills his nostrils. A blue haze dominates his vision as it flickers in and out of focus, his charred fingertips hardly visible through the pale. That confident whisper echoes through the hall like coming from the voice of a giant. Unable to lift his head to see where Druid stood, he remained and felt the presence of his Lord. They just might come out alive, well. Chryrie would.

"Boy?" the stern voice of Druid or the true voice of the bent sage dances through Lolthario's mind. "Do you want me to save you? If you decline, your spirit cannot be claimed by the gods of your people, we are in a lower plane beyond their grasp?"

Not really much of an offer, is it' He thinks as darkness edges into his vision.

"Some choices are not really such?" that powerful voice offers in a near caring tone. "What say you, Lolthario?"

"Yes, Druid. Now kick his ass?" No sooner had the young elf whispered these words"he felt the rush of light crash through him like an ethereal wave of magma.

"No!" Belial gasps in horror watching the elven brat consumed by light. "You won't get away that easy, celestial!"

Lost in a rage, black fire flashes from the Abyssal lord's hands casting the wave of vile immolation across the stage. Ever spell he held left rasps from red sneering lips trying to blot out the radiant light of the Archangel. Cracks appear on the vaulted stalactite covered ceiling, raining debris as spell fire makes the rattles the very walls.

"I don't sen-" Belial trails off watching a figure slowly walk out of the ashes and dust.

Hair burned away to a bald, black polished skeleton. The figure looked upon the lord of hell without pity as charring falls away to reveal perfect skin, hair growing back unharmed. It lifted a hand and there floated twelve small orbs'spells trapped shortly after cast. Unholy aura radiates from each one.

"You dropped these"want them back?" The raised hand winds back, hurling the mass of trapped spells back whence they came. The concussive force of the preserved spells alone launches the demon from the room, taking the dual doors from their massive hinges.

The change is slow as he descends an invisible stair off the ruined stage and makes progress towards where Chryrie lay. Burnt remnants of cloth and buckle fall to the marbled flooring in little clinks and rustles. From their ashes, a red tabard and crimson greaves mold around his youthful build. The material holds an inner light like someone trapped the sun at dusk. A wide belt cinches itself around his waist, holding several pouches and a reserve quiver of golden arrows. Somewhere between archer and mage, he holds out a hand to Chryrie, a smile upon his full lips.

"Let us get thee home, She-rye-ree. This is no place for someone so beautiful?" He looks away from her only for a moment at the sound of shifting rubble from the caved in doors. Their host will return soon it seems. "That merely caught him by surprise. We would not be so lucky a second time, seems this is an off day."

"Charmer," she quips with a laugh, taking his hand. "I look like hell."

"Sorry, M'lady. You are far better looking than our surroundings.? The lavender hues of his eyes flash bright as freshly started fire. They vanish from the unholy halls with nothing behind left but a seared mark. Their destination the portal entrance within the pocket dimension behind Druid's home.