1. Stagger (Juraviel)
2. Trail (Shine)
3. Darkness (Roland)
4. FateSlayer (Samarina)
5. FireStorm (Roland)
6. L'ano Itar and the OSM (Roland)
7. Bar'Nee and his FateSlayer (by MOLL; retold by TOD)
8. A Story of Deafness (Subhash Indraha)
9. FireStorm (Innioc)
10. Invisibility (Midhir)
|Stagger (contributed by Juraviel)|
|A young Fatesender, whose name is long forgotten, had this crazed walking style that made everyone laugh. All the others thought he was the best joke to the Fatesender Focus. But, this poor Fatesender was not some poor chap, he was intelligent. So he took all their laughter in stride, and walked on... however crookedly it was... he walked on. One day he thought on how to get even, as every Fatesender does. Deciding to use the force of Lucidity to make all those people stumble about like fools, he went in search of an Emphant to practice on. His first atempt was rather weak, for all it did was make him stumble all the more! After he finally came to a halt and could stand still he started again, slowly getting the art to work, weakly, but work. The Fatesender then decided to find so more, "lively" game. Walking down in the Glades he found a celebration for one of his biggest bullies. Our proud fatesender stumbled on up to the big bully, being laughed at all the way. When he stopped, the bully, Kirana, took her time in making fun of him. Our stumbly hero then felt his face burn with anger, and through that evoked his newly found art. It hit Kirana with such power that she fell over onto her back and started wiggling all around the party knocking over drink stands and food tables. Smiling, our cooled Fatesender stumbled off leaving the poor girl to vibrate around on the floor for near three hours.|
|Trail (contributed by Shine)|
|One day Augustus, a teacher of fatesenders, was in Trinity Plains teaching a class. He was a big show off and claimed to have created this new art that would make everyone scream thiking they were getting attacked. so he began evoking but when he was done no one heard any screaming. So he evoked again and again and still nothing happened. His class began laughing and taunting him. He became so upset he just ran off. After a bit of running he noticed this green crystal shape on the ground behind him. He tried to pick it up and couldnt and assumed he was just seeing things. So he wandered on and he kept noticing these green things behind him. Finally he stopped and said to himself..." Augustus, maybe you did create something". Then he decided to go back to his study and figure out exactly what he had done. he ignored those green crystals and ended up getting himself lost. Then the idea came to him, "maybe if I follow those green crystals i will find my way back. So he did just that, and found himself close to his home. When he got there, he ran to his study and began trying to figure out what he had done to create these crystals. Once he figured that out he had to think of a use for them. He thought and thought, and thought (obviously he wasnt such a bright guy) until he finally realized what good it had done him and decided to call it Trail. The next day he went to his class and told them of this and they just snickered thinking of what had happend the day before. He tried to show them but of course they couldn't see the green crystals. So he taught his most prized student the art and had him evoke it. When he saw that his teacher had really created something useful, he ran and told everyone he could and Augustus was never made fun of again.|
|Darkness (contributed by Roland)|
|It was long known that in certain planes of Cloudsbreak,
the light of day was rarely seen. The peoples of these planes grew
accustomed to working in low light, and during those brief moments when
dawn finally did break, the people were more likely to hide indoors,
avoiding the light that burned their eyes.
When the first of these people happened upon the City of Dreams, he was unable to enter, but for brief moments. The bright light that permeated threshold and the lands surrounding were too much for him to handle. During one of these brief visits, a wisened old teacher of Fatesenders engaged the Dreamer in conversation, and upon learning the cause of his distress, quickly led him through the Barrows, down into the Chasm of Souls - where the light was low, and the pain the Dreamer exerienced was more manageable.
Over time, the Teacher met with the Dreamer often; the Teacher forged alterors of blindness, to relieve the pain of the light for the Dreamer as he made his way down to the Chasm, and the Dreamer told tales of his lands, and the people who lived in constant twilight.
Intrigued by these stories, and eager to assist as many as possible to achieve the awakening, the Teacher forged many Talismans of Blindness, and soon dozens of Dreamers from the dark lands became residents of the Chasm. The Teacher soon found that the forging of so many talismans was causing a great drain on his DreamSoul... but word traveled fast among the Twilight People, and many more waited to enter the Dream.
Leaving his entire stock of Blindness talismans with that first Twilight Dreamer, the Teacher locked himself in the Rings of Woe, a room resplendent in symbolism and power, the teacher set about improving his arts. The Teacher was convinced he could create and art or a Talisman that would allow the Twilighters to Dream as a people, without limitations.
Beginning with his forging abilities, the Teacher tried to alter the generator in that room (known Dreamwide for its fine Charm and Elemen production) to produce alterors of Blindness. While he did manage to alter the generator, he was only able to persuade it to create high quality alterors and shields, valuable, but not quite the result he was looking for.
Giving up on the generator, he began working towards expanding the range of the art of Blindness itself. Calling in several volunteers, he practiced the art over and over again, raising his proficiency to the point where he could blind four Dreamers simultaneously. Progress, but the drain on his Lucidity was too great to maintain for long.
Frustrated by the many failed ideas and attempts, the Teacher meditated on the workings of the art of Blindness... he knew it affected the mind, shunting optic nerves, separating the mind and eyes' pathways. He also knew that it took a great deal of concentrated Lucidity to maintain this shunt, limiting the range and effectiveness of the art - thus the number of Dreamers it could be evoked on was directly proportional to the amount of Lucidity the evoker possessed.
He realized that an alternative method of causing blindness would be to convince a Dreamer that it was dark. A small exercise in simple hypnosis should be enough! Calling his group of volunteers, he began working with various symbolic gestures, motions, objects - until he hit on the right combination: Combining certain movement of the hands, applying the proper amount of Lucid power, and uttering an exact sequence of words and sounds, he was able to "tell" the Dreamers there was no light! Further practice revealed this new art could work on *any number* of Dreamers, Only those gifted with enhanced vision seemed immune!
With this new art, this art of Darkness, word spread quickly to the Twilight People; Nowadays, they are often seen happily wandering the depths of the Chasm, and in the company of certain FateSender Teachers, who are able to provide them the Darkness they need to survive and flourish in the Dream.
|FateSlayer (contributed by Samarina)|
|It is said that as long as we are human we can never be
perfect, and it seems that this is true. In the earliest days of the
Awakening, there was no conflict between Dreamers.
Dreaming itself was perilous enough to absorb all their time and talent. But as the Master Dreamwrights created safe territory for dreaming, many of the newer Dreamers became
They found things to disagree about - the nature of the Dream itself, even personal squabbles. And as soon as there were disagreements, there were those who wished to settle them by violent means.
Since the arts of the Dream were the tools they worked with most, many dreamers sought ways to turn their arts against one another. It was one of the early fatesenders who first devised a blade art. In the part of Cloudsbreak from which Ganelon came, it was customary to settle quarrels with blade duels. A true child of fire, Ganelon was fiery tempered and intolerant of those less quick and clever than he. As soon as he came into conflict with other dreamers, he wished for a blade with which to prove his points.
Ganelon observed that several existing arts - Inscribe and Trail - enabled a dreamer to use either dreamsoul or a focus element to create an object. More attuned to working with
Lucidity, Ganelon studied the process by which trail worked and developed a primitive version of Forge which enabled him to transmute some of his lucidity into an efective blade.
Although he was clever enough to have become a great Dreamsmith, Ganelon was too impatient to experiment further. He felt it was only a minor inconvenience that the blades he forged lasted only a short time - after all, one could always make a new one. He also believed that it was an advantage that the blades could not be dropped or given away. Until Dreamsmiths of other foci were able to learn to transmute their own focus elements into blades, the fatesenders held an advantage in hand to hand combat.
|FireStorm (contributed by Roland)|
|Long ago, when the dream was yet young, an immature
FateSender named Jor was known throughout the dream as eager, often rude,
and the favorite target of a small group of Dreamseers' art of
Wherever Jor went, this group would seek him out, corner him, and leave him but a hair's breadth from collapse. Now young Jor was a lot of things, but he was not a complete fool... he took it upon himself to master his arts, always trying to fight back, never giving in to the taunts of the Dreamseers who haunted him.
After countless attacks, Jor secluded himself in cave in the mountains, intent on improving his combat abilities, so as to defend himself against these attacks. Realizing he could not face them with melee arts, he concentrated his efforts on the power of the flame - sure that he could make it stronger, more effective.
Learning to divide the strength of his powerful flame into many smaller pieces, and directing them at his enemies was no simple feat. Lacking the insight of the Dreamseer, Jor was only able to control the art in a way that would protect those in his party. Any others within range would suffer severe damage to their avatar.
Once having felt the damage of this new art, a certain Dreamseer ran from the room screaming "Firestorm!!"... the name has stuck.
|L'ano Itar and the Order of the Sable Moon (by Roland)|
|In the days before the great loss, the Order of the Sable
Moon was well known as a House of deep thought, and high Honor. These ways
often caught the interest of experienced dreamers, both those of the Free
Spirit community and other houses.
During these times, there was a well known Fatesender teacher named L'ano Itar. L'ano had spent several years in the dream, advancing to the rank of Master Teacher, and serving the Free Spirit community as advisor, mentor, and role model for the newly awakened and his peers alike. It was well known that L'ano cared little for the beliefs of the Houses. Never one to take up a cause, L'ano dreamt for himself; his quest for knowledge and the desire to share what he learned with all who would listen were L'ano's driving force.
L'ano had little concern for the nightmares, as his classes were generally held within one of Kiln Benfar's sanctuaries, safe from the nightmares that wandered the dreamscape. Over time though, certain of the more intelligent nightmares became aware of the gatherings and began staking out the path to the sanctuary, laying in wait for the students as they left the classes, often exhausted from long periods of arts practice, they made easy prey for even the weakest of nightmares. After one particularly vicious attack on one of his students, L'ano decided to change his selfish ways, and add the scope of his knowledge and abilities to that of a House, the Order of the Sable Moon.
Petitioning Ruler Cybele for membership in the Order, L'ano was tasked to demonstrate his loyalty and ability by guarding the entrance to the House, to prevent infiltration of any nightmares while the Initiates and Guardians were occupied fighting on the front lines near threshold. L'ano was assigned to a second sphere GateKeeper named Draw, together they were to lock the doors and allow no one to pass.
After several hours of watching Draw ward the portals and waiting for the to dissipate, L'ano decided it was an opportune time to kick back and work on his notes. L'ano had recently achieved his third plateau in the art of Firestorm, and had yet to learn exactly what this new power entailed; now seemed as good a time as any to study the formulae and equations involved in the evocation to determine how effective it had become. L'ano found a comfortable perch near the entrance to the Sand Caverns and took out his notes, becoming quickly engrossed in his studies.
Lost in his notes, L'ano did not notice the dark chill that passed through the portal. Before he realized what was happening, Draw was screaming in pain trying to fend off the hoard of Agoknight and Bogrom that had launched a surprise attack on the ill-defended house. Quickly dropping his notes and taking up his best Lucidity Elemen, L'ano, still out of sight near the Cavern entrance, began desperately chanting the words he knew would bring fire raining through the minds of the attackers.
As the first wave of psychic fire flashed across the entrance to the Order, L'ano realized too late that he and Draw had not thought to join in party. As Draw fell victim to the onslaught of the firestorm, L'ano vowed to avenge his loss and paused from his attack to join party with Draw, to protect him from further savaging, and allow Draw to seek refuge in the House sanctuary to heal.
The nightmares did not waste this moment of hesitation, and immediately began scouring the entrance, searching for L'ano, intent on avenging their lesser brethren that had already fallen victim to the storm of fire. As the first bogrom reached the ledge, L'ano sent a flash of flameruin into it, the satisfying image of the torched bogrom lasting only a moment, as this direct attack drew the attention of the remaining nightmares, and revealed his location.
Taking up his Elemen, and begging the now coherent Draw to restore him as best he was able, L'ano set his jaw, backed into the corner, and began evoking his Firestorm. Over and over he evoked the deadly art, while wave after wave of nightmares pounded his avatar, destroying every shield he had, and bringing L'ano dangerously close to dissolution. Only the efforts of Draw and the his own iron will and determination kept him coherent through the onslaught. His last Elemen running down to empty, L'ano slumped against the wall, sure the battle was lost, the halls of the Order to be desecrated by the dark, vile creatures.
Losing consciousness, L'ano realized Draw was standing before him. His final memory of the day was Draw hefting him onto his shoulder and carrying him into the sanctuary, the words "You did it" echoing in his mind.
|Bar'Nee and his FateSlayer (by MOLL; retold by TOD)|
|Niftycrackers: Do you know the history of the fateslayer
by any chance?
TOD: I know a few, wanna hear my favorite?
TOD: well, a long time ago, in one of the houses... doesn't matter which
TOD: there was a little fatesender named Bar'Nee
TOD: Bar'Nee was sort of wimpy
TOD: he didn't have any good arts, he was unsphered
TOD: like me!
TOD: Bar'Nee was always getting picked on by his gatekeeper brothers
TOD: they had blades, and arts
TOD: well, one day Bar'Nee decided he had had enough
TOD: so he left!
TOD: he went and hid in the caves, trying to think of a way to get revenge
TOD: while he was there, he came across an old battered gatesmasher
TOD: he looked at it, and tried to teach himself how to use it
TOD: after losing a few fingers, and badly scarring his left foot...
TOD: he decided he could use it well enough to fight... but, as I said, it was badly battered...
TOD: so he went to the oldest and wisest fatesender known to the dream
TOD: (old grump that he is)
TOD: and learned how to enhance his focus... to direct its energies and make an elemental version of the blade he had found... only one of Lucidity!
TOD begins evoking FateSlayer
TOD concentrates for a moment and creates a FateSlayer!
>TOD adds effect
TOD: Bar'Nee then went back to his house, and as expected
TOD: was immediately set upon by the gatekeepers
TOD: they had missed their favorite whipping boy fatesender
TOD: Bar'Nee drew his blade
TOD: they mocked him... no fatesender could use a blade!
TOD: they were wrong
>TOD smiles sweetly
Niftycrackers: Very nice history, I like that one
Niftycrackers: thanks for telling me about it
TOD: know why fatesenders have the colors we do?
TOD: what color do you see when I do this:
TOD begins evoking FateSlayer
TOD concentrates for a moment and creates a FateSlayer!
Niftycrackers: I dunno, kinda bluish (purple!)
|A Story of Deafen (Subhash Indraha)|
|There was once two family of dreamers, one believed in fighting, the Xoth family and the other believed in peace, the Garth family. The Xoth family was a very trouble causing family. They would attack dreamers, if a dreamer made them mad. Where the Garth family was a very peaceful family, that helped everyone in the dream by growing food, and they also had a "gen garden" where they would get talismans for other dreamers, and they worked hard on getting their art levels very high, in restore and peaceful arts like that. They only had one art that was harmful, that was Deafen and they had a very high level in it, though the never did use it much. After awhile the Xoth family became an outcast family, for attacking other dreamers. After that the Xoth family became very good friends with the nightmares, and helped the nightmares attack dreamers. When the Xoth family came to the Garth's house, with their mare friends. The Garth's where outside doing their usual work. When the Garth's saw the Xoth family and the mares, they came together and used all their power to create a high pitch sound. This scared the mares half to death, and they ran away. While the Xoth family fell to the ground in pain. The town guards had heard the sound, and ran to the Garth's home. Where they took the Xoth family to prison, for the harm they had done to other dreamers. This just goes to show you that Deafen should never be under estimated!|
|A FireStorm Story (Innioc)|
|Ramonish was a kind hearted FateSender, to the point of
totally breaking the mold into which most are placed. Quiet many times,
very thoughtful, and desired by many many women of the DreamCity. None of
them mattered to him. His heart and soul belonged to his love, Julianna.
They were inseparable, and it was very rare indeed to ever see one without
the company of the other. The two had been a couple for many many years.
She alone was able to surpass his shyness, only to find the poetic,
artistic, and truely beautiful person he was inside. One day, however, she
noticed that he was being a bit more reserved and shy than usual. Had
anyone else been with him, it would have gone unnoticed, but it was she,
and coming to know him as she had, as she knows every wrinkle of her own
hand, she could sense something. "What is it love?" She asked, tinge of
concern entering her voice. He sighed a bit, and smiled at her with
nervous eyes. "Julianna, we have been together for a long time now, and
the love I have felt for you has grown so much over that time." She smiled
at him, mirroring the love in her eyes that he himself showed in his own.
"Julianna........" he swallowed hard "Will you......I mean......would
you......Julie.......will you marry me?" Tears crept into her eyes, tears
of joy, as her mouth quivered slightly. "Ray......I don't know what to
say. All I can think of is......."
Her words fell silent as Tehthu himself burst into the room. Releasing a roar that reverberated throughout the room. He stared in rage at the little dreamers before him. Ramonish had never been a warrior, as the old cliche' goes, he was a lover not a fighter. Julianna, however, was a GateKeeper, and destined to fight when the need arose. But this was not the time. Tehthu's entrance caught her by surprise. His first strike knocked her to the ground, and she lie there stunned. Tehthu's full attention was focused on her. Ramonish rummaged quickly through his pack, searching for the mightiest chakram he had, a level 60. But, so seldom was he in battle, it was near the bottom and cost him precious seconds. Tehthu's second, and final blow to Julianna brought about her collapse. The Mighty DarkMare began evoking an art, though Ramonish knew not what it was. He emptied the last remaining shots of his chakram into the foul beast, taking him to near dissolution, but the chakram crumbled to dust before he could finish the job. Glancing over his sizable shoulder, Tehthu watched the chakram's usefulness end and he smiled in that evil way that only a DarkMare can manage. Completing the evokation, Tehthu used the art of DreamStrike upon her. As she faded, knowing what was happening, she whispered "Ray, I love you. I had been waiting for you ask that question for many months."
Roaring in Pleasure, Tehthu looked at Ramonish. Knowing he would easily take this dreamer down, he grinned a bonechilling grin at Ramonish. The rage, the rage and firey energy only possessed by FateSenders, the rage that Ramonish himself did not know he possessed, came forth. Tears on his cheeks he began evoking, not knowing what art it would be, only acting upon the impulse and adrenaline that had suddenly exploded inside him. Tehthu was taken aback as he stared at the dreamer before him, a crimson light growing within his eyes and bathing his entire body in ruby brillance. Finishing the evokation, Ramonish screamed out in the painful cry only one who has lost a love can feel. The rest is history. The power of his love for Julianna and the anger and pain her loss had filled him with had given him the ability to evoke an art, as of yet unknown to the dream. Tehthu was engulfed in a firey blast that exploded throughout the room and carried as if on the winds of a violent hurricane. The beast fell, and Ramonish stared at the floating DarkMare, not sure what had happend or why his life was someon spared
Though he was no DreamWright, his tale of what had happend carried throughout the dream. Within a month, every soul in the city had heard of this miraculous occurance. He was never able to reproduce these results alone, but he spoke with a close friend and DreamWright by the name of Denak. Learning of the emotions felt, and the occurances leading up to it, Denak studied over all the information Ramonish could give him. Many years passed, but finally, Denak found the secret. There is a small region of the dreamer Psyche that all our feelings of anger are created from. By tapping into this energy with the evokation of offensive arts, that energy can be harnessed. However, the the temper of the FateSenders make them unique. This art can, therefore, only be evoked by the FateSenders of the Dream, and only when their avatars have grown enough in strength that the raw power of this art does not threaten to destroy them. He named this art very simply as to the way Ramonish described it. "FireStorm"
|As we all know not all wondrous discoveries are made by
choice. Some are made a goal and set upon and researched till fruition,
but, others are happenstance. A chance discovery. An accident. In the
case of invisibility it was just that, an accidental discovery.
Cyardon, a DreamSeer of no great importance, was often found wandering around the planes of the dream. He would sit for hours looking into the gently flowing waters of the streams in the Trinities, or gazing out across the dreamscape from the higher reaches of Illapse. He had just spent many weeks learning the ins and outs of the art of Chamele from a now famous dreamer Jervias, and was spending his days wrapped in the shadows of the dream, studying the various mares he happened upon.
Now, like most quiet people, Cyardon had a close friend very unlike himself, TLrek. As we know from the history of Stagger TLrek was famous for his ale, and his sense of humor. The pair were a sight to see together, TLrek often loud and boisterous and Cyardon solemn and withdrawn. They could often be found, Cyardon sitting on the edge of fountain with his hand swirling the waters, and TLrek standing over him chastising him on being such a hermit.
"Cyardon, friend, you have to open up! Laugh a little and let it out!" T'Lrek said in a deep jovial voice.
Cyardon looked up, wiping his hand on his cloak, "I know my friend but I never seem to know what to say. Then it feels like everyone is looking at me waiting for something. I get nervous and my mind goes blank."
TLrek put his hand upon Cyaredons shoulder, "Well now that you have this, this new toy you play with, Chamele, youll never open up. You walk around the city invisible to all. How is a fine lass going to chase you if she cant see you!"
Cyardon began to fidget, "Please TLrek not again. You know I cant talk to woman."
Just then TLrek recalled a flask he placed in his vest pocket before he left the tavern that morn. He withdrew it, removed the stopper, and reached down to the pool, pretending to fill it from the waters. Stoppering it back up he handed it to Cyardon, "Here my friend take this then. I would hate to find you lying in the fields of the Trinities, swooned from the heat and lack of liquid refreshment. Maybe the cool waters of your favorite pool will stir you a bit or at least keep you from heat stroke."
Cyardon, not paying much attention to what TLrek was saying or doing, took the flask and tucked it away in pouch at his belt.
Later that day he was walking through the fields of the Trinities as TLrek knew he would, since he did so everyday at that time. As he rounded the corner he happened upon a fair maiden, grappling with a Bogrom, and obviously on the losing side of the struggle. Now Cyardon was no warrior by any means, and one might say even a bit cowardly. As he often did when the mares would rear their ugly heads, he ducked behind the corner and wrapped himself in the shadows using his art of Chamele before either could notice him, or so he thought. He then bolted past, and ran up the ledge heading for the rise. His mouth became dry and parched from the exertion and his fear. He leaned up against the wall, and remembering the flask, withdrew it, pulled the stopper and took a long swig of the contents. To his surprise it was not the clear water of a spring, but a brew concocted from the fabled flagon of his friend, TLrek the DreamSmith of Grog. Too late to halt its rush down his gullet, the effects began to take hold.
Cyardon stood up straight and tall, flung back his cloak and ran a steady strong hand through his sable locks. His heart bursting with courage, he ran back down the rise to defend the fair maiden from the vile bogrom. Rushing headlong at the creature he smashed into it, knocking it from its feat, and freeing the damsel from its clutches. Now, as soon as he struck the beast his chamele diminished and the maiden could see her savior standing over her, reaching a hand to pull her to her feat. Quickly, the bogrom regained its senses and its footing, and lunged at Cyardon. The first blow succeeded out of surprise, stealth, and blind luck. Cyardon was now standing toe to toe with a creature quite capable of rending him limb from limb. Quickly, he grabbed up a broken limb resting on the ground by the maidens feet, and lunged at the beast, swinging with such ferocity the creature was staggered. Then it happened. He hiccuped. Yes, I said hiccuped, and to the amazement of the bogrom, his foe had vanished.
Letting out a guttural cry the beast began swinging madly. Noticing his foe seemed not to know where he was, Cyardon took the opportunity to move behind the beast, and with one massive blow, felled the vile creature. Suddenly, he reappeared again standing in front of the maiden he had risked his very life to save. She looked a bit amazed but not at his warriors prowess, but at how he could do what he did; seemingly turn invisible. With a new found courage and very beautiful woman at his arm, Cyardon went in search of his friend.
As they walked, Azreaal, as the maiden was called, asked Cyardon of his wondrous powers. Cyardon, rather at a loss for how it had happened, began to theorize. They discussed the possibilities as they traveled to TLreks tavern. He told her of the circumstances leading up to the event, and she of hers, and they came to the conclusion that somehow TLreks concoction had reacted with the ambient magiks of the Chamele still in effect on Cyardons avatar. They laughed as they walked, for it seems Cyardon still had the hiccups, and would pop in and out of sight from time to time.
Upon reaching the tavern they sat down over a round of more common ale and told the story to TLrek. TLrek turned to Azreaal and said "Oh, I told you to go to the Trinities... I meant to say Umbric. Good thing my friend here happened upon you."
Cyardon raised a brow and looked at his friend, detecting a bit of mischief and preplanning in his words. "So, you two have met before?"
Azreaal looked up at Cyardon, a mischievous smile not unlike TLreks upon her lips, "He is my uncle, Cyardon, he sent me in search of some mushrooms for this evenings special, but it seems he had his directions crossed."
Cyardon scowled at TLrek "You rogue! You deliberately gave me one of your vile concoctions, and sent your niece out in harms way knowing I would stumble upon her and " Just then he looked at Azreaal. His heart softening, his withdrawn nature all but forgotten, and just as he was about to speak another hiccup escaped his lips, and poof he was gone again. A roar went up from the three and, the rest of the day was spent talking and getting acquainted with his soon to be bride.
Now, back to the creation of Invisibility. Cyardon with the help of Azreaal who turned out to be a very insightful lass, and TLreks flagon, he was able to reproduce the effects of the mixture and form what we have today as the Art of Invisibility. The sound made by the evocation of the art still sounds like the hiccup escaping from Cyardons lips, and its short duration is due to the fact the rather chaotic nature of its creation. The potency of the art seems to disallow the ability to extend it for great lengths of time.
Poor Cyardon was never able to rid himself of the after effect of his hiccups, and would always poof after a few drinks, making the wedding reception, and the night to follow, an interesting tale in itself. Maybe for another day.