Back at the Temple, there were sudden bright flashes of light as the reflected beam swung back and forth across the temple wall. It continued for about 30 seconds and then was gone.

There it is... Iain spotted the light from outside the temple.

"Alex, looks like the Sun's out... How's that hourglass?" He called.

Alex called over to Iona and Raven when she saw the flashes of light begin and end.

As the last sands fell from the top glass into the bottom, the reflected beam of light struck the outer temple. The glass then slowly turned over and the fall of the sands began again. And then flickering light was no longer seen.

Dren stopped suddenly as he and Johnny made thier way back to the temple, his eyes scanned the area around them paying attention to every detail, every rock, every leaf of plan life... seeing nothing he looked over his shoulder and explained.

"Sorry, I was jus' thinkin' this walk would go s'much faster if y'ad two 'alves o'an empty coconut an were bangin'em t'gether."

With that he started forward again.

Raven checked her watch as Iain and Alex called out and the hourglass turned. “On the nose,” she said.

Pieran cleared his gear away and into a corner and returned to the front door. Silent scowls creased his features. He rested his bow against the wall and with a brass telescope he searched in the direction of the two wanderers. He could see them clear enough but he paid closer attention to their surroundings. His eye was fixed and not even the flash of sun stirred a muscle. “Hotamé-måsåhao^?o!” Whatever he said, he muttered if to himself, but whoever could hear it knew it couldn’t have been a compliment. No, not even as he watched their return.

Orean nodded her head with approval. “Defiantly a team effort. Good team work,” she said.

“Well, that is good news. Now we know where and when one of the beams of Sol train’s a hit.” She smiled broadly, pleased with their discovery.

“We can do this,” she continued, flipping through the pages in the book. “But I will need your help. I can get Sol moving and back on track. And I believe I can send you back as well. When everyone is together, then I will begin. I need to insure that at least three of you know the High Noon prayer chant.”
This message was last updated by the GM at 18:08, Fri 01 Oct 2004.

Upon returning to the Temple Dren stopped just short of Pieran, "Y'worry t'much. T'will be th'death o'ya." patting the Ren Faire Reject on the shoulder he walked through the doorway and looked around asking "S'now what? 'ow long d'we 'ave b'fore we can ditch th'Land that Time Fergot?" looking over to Orean he nodded "Nothin' personal. I jus' look forward t'room service." then to Alex "You look like you could use some service... y'know, get y'somethin' warm an fillin'... like soup."

"Soup?  I think I'll need something a good deal more potent than soup."  Alex had the distinct feeling that Dren was being lewd, but she wasn't in the mood to return fire.  Not today, anway.  Maybe later.  For now, she settled with giving Dren a broad grin and waiting for someone to answer his question.

Iain looked from Dren to Raven and whispered to him: "My friend, you are a braver man than I... However, for your physical integrity, I hope she didn't hear you."

Dren looked to Iain, confused for a moment, then looked over to Raven, then to Alex, and finally back to Iain still perplexed so he finally just asked "What're y'talking 'bout?"

As Dren's gaze passed over her, Alex shook her head and shrugged in the classic I-have-no-idea gesture.  She genuinely had no clue what Iain was talking about, and neither it seemed, did Dren.

"Well, that last comment of yours was... Prone to misunderstanding. I don't know what kind of relationship there is between you and Raven, but I'd go out on a limb and guess that she might not be pleased."

Dren's mind connected the dots and he broke into a smile as he looked back at Raven, who seemed very content with her books at the moment. In study mode she could be there for hours, No sense in bothering her to explain it.

He looked back to Alex with a smile then back to Iain but lowered his voice as if to keep down the confusion, "If y'mean t'suggest tha Raven an I are more'n jus buisness partners I 'ave t'dissapoint ya." looking back over at Raven he seemed to evaluate her once more before returning his attention to Iain "'Sides, even if she saw me as more'n jus th'guy tha clears away th'cave in... I'm not exactly 'er type. When she goes t'th'theatre, she mean's Phantom of the Opera, an 'er idea of a dinner party isn't ordin' Pizza an breaking out th'Ichiban." he turned to watch Raven for a moment, then conituned without taking his eyes of her "She's th'smartest, strongest, mos gifted woman I've met..." Dren was suddenly lost in thought, realizing he'd said too much already but not know how to recover from it. His only hope now was that he'd kept his voice low enough for only Iain to understand. Words were amazing things to Dren, they were the one thing in the world which once freed they could never be recaged. Finally turning back to Iain he let his voice take on it's regular tone "But thanks fer thinkin' I 'ad a snowball's chance in 'ell!" With that he jabbed Iain in the chest, right about his heart. It wasn't a threat more than it was a friendly and unspoken request, Tell Anyone, and I'll Kill You, was all it implied. Looking back to Alexis he nodded and then left the room. He felt the need to get away, take his mind of things, try to put the recent past behind him... time to go to work!

Raven looked up from Ninti’s books. “I think we may already have that covered.” She dug into her pack and brought out the journal. After finding the page she wanted, Raven showed the passage to Orean. “If this is the chant you mean - Iona, Johnny and I have learned it. We even tried it earlier with Ninti but, we weren’t standing at the star so, it didn’t work.”

Orean brightened even more. “Wonderful! Well then, we can do this within the hour, make that two hours, I need to do a little preparation. And I then can send you all back, as well as correct this situation.”

She read a passage she found in the tome and then cautioned, “Those that chant must have contact with the Staff of Sol and do not break that contact. You all must be on the star, in the beam of light to make this work. And most importantly, the Staff must be aligned properly. The eastern mark of the staff must be facing due east and the western mark to the west. If not, the rotation will be improper. This world will spin off axis. Worse though, the rift will not be able to be repaired. All our fates will reside in your hands.”

"But no pressure..."

"That can't be good." Dren said suddenly, and to no one in particular, as he walked back into the room and approached the bench he'd shot. Looking it over he seemed to be talking to himself "What e'er y'do. Don't cross th'streams!", standing on the wounded bench he tested it by standing on it then bouncing up and down. As if struck by an idea that knocked him off the bench he dropped his back pack by Raven and Orean as he went into the hidden room as if searching for the holy grail itself. If Raven had a habit of getting lost in books, Dren was clearly as equally occupied with... something.

"Oh, no.  None at all."  Alex grinned, settling back on the stretcher and waiting.

Pieran knelt beside Alexis and mopped tiny beads of sweat from her brow. It was stuffy in the room and no doubt pain played its role too. He smiled warm and sweet. “Please don’t take this in the wrong way, Alexis. I invited you into my bed and you took it. But now that I see what it could be like to sleep with you,” he added, indicating the shattered furnishings, “I hope you’ll settle for a candle lit dinner instead.” His smile turned goofy and he blushed like a night light. “I’m sorry, I’m not good at telling….er, well, I’m just not….” He laughed pitifully at himself. “I’m clumsy and stupid.

“Anyway, we may have the fortune of leaving soon. If we do not, then I will help heal your wounds. But if we do leave, and return home, you will be in better care. And also, if we are leaving, and our ways part, I will never forget your spirit. You have great courage. If it is your wish, a Slayer you shall be, no matter what anyone says. Do not listen to naysayers. Hold fast to your faith. Joan of Arc taught me that. Indirectly,” he added, with a sly wink.

He knelt and kissed her forehead, still smiling. “Nė-sta-va-vóomátse. ‘Until the next sun.’” He hesitated, his brow perplexing. “Or was that, ‘I eat a purple bear.’” He sighed and hung his head heavily, shaking it back and forth sadly. “You see? I am hopeless.” He smiled at her and winked again.

He stood once more, saluting her in his custom, and moved off to his belongings. As he neared Iona he whispered his desire to see her for private conversation.


As he exited, he carried a small leather case with him. “I am going back to the pond behind the temple,” he told the others. “I will not be long. Try not to become breathless with anticipation.”

Leaning close to Johnny, he indicated Alexis and whispered, "Do not let her drink ale. We shall not invite peritonitis."

After laying a firm and friendly hand on Johnny's shoulder, Pieran made his exit from the temple.

Iona had remained quiet through all this, silently aiding Raven with the time measurements using the chronometer function in her PDA. Once the experiment was over, she returned it to her purse, after taking careful note of their observations.

But while she performed these tasks, Iona was still pondering Alex's revelation. Her relief of not being the cause of the disturbance was mixed with cautious hope. Another telekinetic...! This might the chance she had been waiting for. Iona had never been able to reveal her powers at the PEAR Institute (actually, never dared; ironic, considering the their research there) but these people already knew and didn't judge. Maybe now, with a human telepath to compare results with, she'd be able to explore and really learn to control all of her powers - something her Ciloth relatives hadn't been able to help her with.

The Elders had told Iona that she had inherited her mental powers from her Ciloth parent, but that Iona's inherent humanity would always encumber her; that as long as she was governed by her feelings and emotions, these would always be in the way of her gaining full control of all her powers. And for a while she had believed them, which was why she had so fully embraced the part of the scientist. The cleanness of engineering; the lack of maybe's and well-that-depends; the reliability of mathematics, an equation always leading to the same correct answer; the promise of there being one all-governing truth, untouched and untainted by emotions and bias and the ulterior motives of humans and demons... This would be the world for Iona, a world in which she would learn to control her emotions, and maybe even find a way to fully eliminate them.

Of course, thus far, she hadn't had much success. She would still get flustered in new situations, was easily embarrassed when people paid her too much attention, would occasionally lose her patience and lash out in an irrational manner and do rash things... and there had been that one time with the funny brownies, where the effect had been quite the opposite of what she had intended. The mere memory brought a fresh blush to her face.

But if she could investigate the differences between how humans and Ciloth's employed their mental powers, maybe Iona would be able to isolate the trigger she needed to control her own mental powers. She cast a sideways glance at Alexis. Maybe...

Iona's attention was drawn to the conversation between Alex, Iain and Dren. She couldn't quite hear what Dren was saying to Iain, but his eyes were fixed on Raven, and the intensity of the look was revealing in itself. Iona held back a smile, and made an addition to her mental notes on Dren.



Iona turned towards the two women, nodding. "Also, there might some pronounciation to correct." She turned back a few pages in her notebook, showing it to them. In one column she had neatly copied the incantation, in the other, there was a phonetic transcription of the same. The pointed at a line in the middle. "It's this passage here..."

From the corner of her eyes she saw Pieran approaching. She turned slightly towards him as he bent down to whisper in her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck. She nodded, curiosity peaked. "Sure. I'll be right there."

   Eventually returning from the field excercise, Johnny greeted the others with a slight nod. Hearing Orean's reoprt, he felt generally satisfied with how things were proceeding. Interesting as this dimension might have been, the fatality rate was probably a bit to high for his liking.
   "Concerning the chant - I've got it all up here," Johnny said, indicating his temple with an index finger. "That should leave a total of three, yes. Let's get going."
   To Pieran's departure, he commented: "The woman'll do whatever she bloody wants to, as long as it doesn't pose a medical risk. What on Earth are you going outdoors for?"

Pieran sighed. "Whatever you say, doc. As to what I'm doing outdoors, have you not heard the call of nature? Or do I need a hall pass?" He continued out without waiting for a reply.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:40, Sun 03 Oct 2004.

Pieran neatly guided his straight razor across his chin, slaying the five o’clock shadow haunting his face. ‘Do not enter foreign lands as a wild beast.’ He appraised his features with each stroke of his blade, first in a small hand mirror and then in the surface of the pond. Not barbershop perfect, but good to be going on.

He agitated the water, rinsing his brush and blade. A movement in his mirror caught his eye but he betrayed nothing. A final, slow stroke of his blade and the last stubborn bristle was laid dead. He returned his mirror to the leather toiletries case. His brush and cup followed. Once again he agitated the pond, cleaning the ivory-handled cutting tool of foam.

She was watching him from behind the temple. Her lifting scent carried on the wind. “Defeat thermodynamics with zero drag coefficient,” he said, somewhat non sequitur.

When the pond settled down, her reflection stood above him. “I held the vampire aloft,” she translated with an answering smile, “allowing him no escape.”

Pieran replaced his blade and closed the case, his chores finished for now. He bowed, saluting from his heart. “I am in your debt, as are we all.”

He moved closer to her, his voice softening to butter. “I do not know how you come by such awesome and terrible powers, M’lady. I have known such powers only among foul and fallen Things. Yet I believe that even angels…” He stopped, catching the stir in her eyes. “M’lady, your eyes…they are indigo!” “Nay, violet, as you are named. ‘Tis strange and wondrous.” He reached down to caress her face. Respect stayed his hands, affection pushed them closer – a duel between opposing rightnesses. He willed in favor of diffidence. But though his fingers halted a few inches away, she could still feel the heat coming from them, could smell the freshness of sweet cream and after-shave. He looked deeply into her eyes, his thoughts seemingly a million miles away. Or a million ages.

Iona turned crimson, silently cursing the blush even as she felt it wander across her face. He was being so attentive, so focused on her. Now that was strange. Maybe even wondrous.

And his eyes... a window to the soul, it was said. To Iona, they became a window to his souls, so intent was his gaze. She picked up on his inner struggle, and her cheeks started to almost burn. Oh my. It was more than just the dozens or more souls battling within him; he was even struggling against himself, his own longing to touch her. Pieran was almost falling drunk to the intoxication of his own pulse, and the blood pounding in Iona's ears echoed the rhythm, leaving her unable to break free from the bond his eyes had created.

He looked at her and into her for a long time before returning to his main coda. “You are not schooled in battlefield tactics; therefore, you are not expected to know the wisest means of deploying your strength. Yet your suspension of the fleeing creature was a masterful stroke and precisely the right use of force. I wanted to thank you. And to help you.”

Oh. So, that’s what this was about. Iona suppressed the little twinge of regret when his focus shifted. But his next action quickly brought back the flutter to her stomach. He lifted her hand with one of his own, opening her palm and laying it in his. He traced circles in her palm with his free hand, graceful sweeping arcs from her fingertips to her wrist and back again. “This, your killing hand – this is your downfall.”

She reflexively closed the hand at his first tickle. But just as quickly she opened it again. ‘At least try to act like a rational adult, Iona,’ she thought to herself, as Pieran continued.

While keeping her hand in his he reached his free hand down toward her hip and sharply withdrew the wooden stake slung there, setting it neatly into her tiny palm, and closing her fingers around it. “I armed you for defense, not for attack. To learn how to attack I must train your mind. But I would not trample so fine a thing. So let us first train your hand…”

He thus began a quick course on the proper grasp of a stake whose intention it is to pierce thick flesh, sinew, bone, and muscle. It was as much a lesson in kinesiology as it was in warfare. He moved above her, beneath her, and all around her in a gentle dance that was as implicitly loving as it was shepherding; teaching her by touch, and by laughter, and by model how to stand, how to plant her feet, how to tighten her shoulder, and how to thrust and withdraw for rapid, powerful strokes. Iona was quickly winded by the exercise, but that wasn’t the sole reason for her quicker breath – Pieran’s closeness was a definite factor in that equation.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered, his words tumbling lightly upon the nape of her neck, landing like feathery down. His warm breath lingered there and his fingers climbed up her spine, stopping to knead her swollen muscles. Her breath caught and she involuntarily closed her eyes. “Tension is yours to command, M’lady, not to serve,” he urged, his fingers massaging firmly at her temples, now. “Hold it behind your eyes and in your weapon, thus….”

She tensed up, suddenly nervous, and withdrew slightly from him, anxiously checking and adjusting her headband. “You mean, like this?” she said, and repeated the moves he had shown her, already showing some progress. She fervently hoped he’d allow himself to be distracted by this.

He did allow it and there were yet a few steps he wanted to teach. Their dance moved in slow motion, an unhurried pas de deux from a largo of unspoken song, ancient and raw. From the trees, Iona could hear the wind rustling the dry leaves, carrying a waft of grass from the plains beyond. But her senses were all trained on Pieran, his voice and his movements, both smooth and fluid as the stream beside them – if it had been made of the smoothest butterscotch.

He concluded by offering her a large stone lashed to a leather lanyard of nearly two feet –something he’d quickly cannibalized from the temple remains. “Grasp this in your hand and raise it up and down by your wrist only,” he instructed. “Do this one hundred times a day, three or four times each day. It will condition your wrist to hold firm during a strike. The stone’s awkward mass adds chaos to your exercise, insuring that you won’t pick up hitchhiking syndromes from repeated stress. Still, your hand will ache for a time after. Come see me when.”

She copied the movements with her right hand, wrist wobbling a bit, then, steadying after a couple of tries. Suddenly, his smile turned evil. “Later, when you have mastered this hand, you must do it all over again…with your other hand.” She groaned, but couldn’t resist his devilish smile and started to laugh.

His smile softened and twin arrows fell into her polyphonic eyes. “You learn quickly; you have done well.” He faltered a bit uncomfortably. “We have been long away. The others must surely wonder our company.” He began to say more but held himself in check. He didn’t really know what to say. So he picked the obvious choice. His voice never lost its cotton candy. It just became softer. “Peace, M’lady,” he said.

More than gesture accompanied his salaam as he bowed again and stepped back from her, leaving her at peace or in pursuit upon her wish…

Iona watched his retreating back. She was pensive. What was happening here? Had she only imagined the strong emotions emanating from him earlier? Or was it just a friendly training session – a sense of responsibility on Pieran’s behalf to look out for his fellow comrades in this strange adventure? Johnny’s absence would indicate otherwise, considering he was as inexperienced as she. Besides, Iona couldn’t quite picture Pieran whispering softly into Johnny’s ears, the way he had with her. She absentmindedly rubbed her neck, thinking about his strong fingers.

Suddenly Iona realized she was alone, outside... with really hungry vampires lurking in the neighborhood. “Pieran, wait!” she called, hurrying after him along the path back to the temple. She definitely wanted to train a bit more before encountering a hostile vamp on her own – if ever.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:30, Sun 03 Oct 2004.