Subject: [Dagger] [Porc] The Change
Date: Sun, 6 Sep 1998 20:33:22 -0400
From: "Jim Davis" <jrdavis@penn.com>
To: "Dagger List" <dagrfall@ods.com>

"You are, of course, right, Lady Mea.  I had no right to take the liberty to
bring my apprentice on board.  But still, if you insist I and my entourage
leave, then you need but say the word.  As to my appearance, I believe that
actions speak far louder than words.  I do not know why you see me as
demonic.  Black is the color of night, and if I am to carry on my secret
missions, then logic would dictate being inconspicuous.  If I go galavanting
about the streets, looking something like this..." I said as I stepped back
a bit, then activated my magic.

Light blue grease paint covered my face, and the black silks of the Dark
Angel shifted into the embellished frills and puffs of a court jester.  The
ebon staff shifted into a small scepter, capped by a stuffed doll's head in
my image.  The swords turned to taffy strings, and the wings turned into a
cloak.  The black color of the clothing seeped away, replaced by the loud
reds and yellows preferred by my jester on Kalisis.

I shuddered with revulsion.  Oh how the mighty are fallen, I thought, having
worked so hard on Sovere to lose the child-like reputation everyone had of
me.  "Would you prefer this?" I asked impatiently, "or perhaps this?"  I
activated my magic again and shape-shifted into an image in white.  The
swords and staff shifted back to their true form, but instead of black, they
seemed to be solid beams of light.  The wings unfurled, stretching out, the
wing plumage pushing through the skin.  The clothing shifted back into the
all covering silks, but these were of the most immaculate white seen.
Whiter than the freshest rose, white than even my pale skin.  Not one speck
of color marred the monotony, save a single red rose, pinned to the lapel of
my tunic.  The rose had always been there,
a mark of his love for Catris, but when he was the Dark Angel, it was as
black as the cloth it was pinned to.  The rose was so delicate that it
seemed if it were handled roughly, it would break apart, its beauty
crushed.  The silks did not come up over my face, nor did they cover my
hair.  My eyes pulsing with warm emerald light and my hair drawn back and
secured with a thong of leather.  A smile creased my lips, though I could
tell Mea knew it was forced, for effect.

Feeling much more dignified than as a jester, but not near as powerful as
when in Dark Angel form, I asked, "And what of my appearance now?  Would
this frighten children?"  Mea looked upon my face, falling prey to the magic
that my gaze in this form weaves, but the sword of hers buzzed out its
protests, and I cut the magic short before she could sense it.

"Well, what of the matter of your apprentice?" Mea asked as she shook her
head, clearing away the cobwebs left by the magic.

Krystalas stepped forth and explained herself.  "Lady Mea, please allow me
to stay.  I will be no burden.  I have enough magic that I could make myself
invisible and silent at all times, and I can make my own food."  As a
demonstration, she brought her hands together, palms up, and a serving
platter dominated by a large piece of roast meat appeared in her hands.
Mea's eyebrows turned up at this, and I could almost hear Zarth's mouth
begin to water.  She parted her hands, and the meat disappeared, platter and
all.  "If you allow me to stay, Jemalas and I would be nigh unstoppable in a
battle situation.  We can combine our powers in summoning Kali and call upon
an Avatar."  Mea's eyes lit up with alarm at the mention of the word
"Avatar."

Noi getat! my mind screamed, alerted by the fear in her eyes at the mention
of the Avatar.  "Krystalas, you must go back to your lessons.  If you had
been paying attention, you would remember that I am the Avatar.  I cannot
summon myself, now can I?" I asked, lying through my teeth, trying to cover
up the alternate event sequence that happened only for me.  I looked at Mea
and Zarth, who's faces were just recovering color.

Bracing myself for an attack or worse, a verbal berating, I waited.

~Lord Jemalas Tamislane, Master Dweomerkeeper, Ruler of Kalisis, High Lord
of Thornwood
jrdavis@penn.com
ICQ- 16848203