The Ash Cycle

[Blitz]

Steerforth sat uneasily on his stallion, his eyes scanning the verdant woods around him. The forests were quite, far quieter than those around Warwick, as if a fear clung to the trees like an invisible fog. It was almost stifling. Ignoring the sun that beat down from the midday sun.

He glanced down at Chirando and the new companion the mage had garnered by his good deeds. Steerforth watched the two interact, watched the half-breed coax the wolf further into the wood. They had found the place where the animal had been attacked the day before, a small cave died a dull brown-red with blood that had once made up the wolf’s pack den. The ground had supped on the blood’s moisture, but the scar of chaos lingered in the grizzly scene, yet none of the other animal’s bodies remained, just the fierce signs of struggle.

The paladin glanced at the ground again, scanning the faint trail his party was following from the cave. Steerforth had been surprised to see the trail, see any sign of flight from the cave, but it was far easier to follow than he would have liked, as if the demons that had caused the massacre didn’t care if they were discovered so deep in the Empire’s territory. It bode ill. Nevertheless, a clear sign of the demons’ passing etched through the forests of the southern Empire lands, with markings from the blood of the wolves, the occasional scorch mark on a tree, and heavy footprints of something big trailing through the trees.

“Alric, Hill, Heap,” Steerforth called quietly behind him, never taking his eyes from the trees, “keep our ranks tight. With a trail this bold, I doubt that this is just a scouting party. And I think we’re catching up.”


[MT]

This is to continue Chirando’s quest. We’ll do a bit of freeform as the characters get closer to whatever the Legion is planning. I’ll start throwing demons at us in a little bit. For reference, here are the NPCs stats.

Lord Alan Steerforth
Defender of the Faith (Paladin, Imperial Knight, Knight, Squire)
Level: 20
HP: 285
MP: 80
Strength: 173 (150)
Stamina: 27 (25)
Agility: 10
Initiative: 20
Wisdom: 40
Charisma: 40
Wards: N/A
Immunities: N/A
Leadership: 3
Spells:
- Healing (10 MP)
- Holy Strength (15 MP)
- Call to Arms (30 MP)
Skills:
- Ride Steed
- Leadership I
Items:
- War Stallion

Sir Gregory Heap
Imperial Knight (Knight, Squire)
Level: 10
HP: 220
MP: 0
Strength: 88 (80)
Stamina: 10
Agility: 10
Initiative: 20
Wisdom: 10
Charisma: 10
Wards: N/A
Immunities: N/A
Spells:
N/A
Skills:
- Ride Steed
Items:
- Stallion

Sir Robert Hill
Imperial Knight (Knight, Squire)
Level: 10
HP: 220
MP: 0
Strength: 88 (80)
Stamina: 10
Agility: 10
Initiative: 20
Wisdom: 10
Charisma: 10
Wards: N/A
Immunities: N/A
Spells:
N/A
Skills:
- Ride Steed
Items:
- Stallion

Alric “Yur’bur vik” Hammerfate
Veteran (Warrior, Dwarf)
Level: 10
HP: 260
MP: 0
Strength: 85
Stamina: 15
Agility: 5
Initiative: 15
Wisdom: 0
Charisma: 0
Wards: N/A
Immunities: N/A
Spells:
N/A
Skills:
N/A

[/MT]

[Marko]

"Slowly laddy..." - advised the dwarf. As Chirando turned to ask why, sir Hill added an explanation, whispering, but making himself clear on all the word and sounds coming out of his mouth.

"You do not want to be a victim of a trap so early in your career with the Empire, do you hafling." - he said, turning to face a blind spot in the groups sight. But nothing could prepare you, no sound was present in the forest, other then the rattleing of the leaves and the crackling of the dried sticks under the groups feet.

"I hate this silence!" - sir Heap, said raising his voice.

"Keep your eyes focused and your mounth shut, knight." - warned Lord Steerforth, rasing his arm, while giving his horse an order to stop, and spoke to the "Vik" and his human brother.

"Flank the elf while he observes the dead wolfs body." - Lord Sterforth turned his body acompanied by the sound of the leather armour stretching underneat the steel plate.

"Half-elf, see what you can tell me of the dead animal." - he wanted to give orders to sir Heap, but turned back to face the halfling.

"Keep your wolf close by and ready."

"Sir Heap." - even whispering Lord Steerforth had a comanding voice - "Sally forth, while I remain here. This way with sir Hill and Alric we encircle the halfling, while he does his observations"

"Yes sir..." - acknowledged the imperial knight, moving quick by Chirando to ocupy his position.

[Blitz]

As Heap backed his horse away from the halfling, he spun the animal around and kicked it into a gallop heading back the way the party had come. Steerforth again cautioned the three men to move slowly, wanting to give Heap every opportunity to get into a flanking position should the dead animal be a trap.

He flexed his hand around the grip of his shield and casually placed his free hand on the hilt of his sword, pulling on it gently to ensure it wouldn't catch if he had to draw it quickly. His face reflected a calm aloofness, every bit the pompous paladin he wanted to appear. But his stony gray eyes shifted among the trees, warily watching for any sign of movement. Any sign of an ambush.

He patted his stallion's neck, stroking the powerful muscles of the great horse keeping it calm. The horse was used to the tension, it had seen countless battles under the guidance of the holy warrior. It could sense the mood of its master and readied itself for the frothing surge into a fray. Steerforth didn't want the beast to look too anxious, too fierce. If this was an ambush, he fully intended to be able to spring the trap, then spring it back into the foul offspring of Bethrezen's face.

He straightened in his saddle and glanced down at the wolf. It had to be dead, the animal's body was mangled, its fur was singed from brimstone and marred with blood. The smell clung to the air, threatening to choke the forest with its steely tang.

"Easy boys," he murmered. "We're in no rush..."

[Blitz]

Suddenly, Chirando's wolf growled, the hackles on its neck stiff with fear and anger. Chirando glanced back only to see his companion glaring at the dead animal. When the halfling turned, he was astonished to see the dead animal shift and begin to rise.

Leaping back he heard Alric swear in dwarven as the dead wolf rose to its hind feet and shift into a malicious grin. The animal's body shifted until it retook the form of a blue-skinned demon.

"Doppleganger," Steerforth swore, his sword already in his hand.

The demon wheezed with delight, cooing in a strange, echoing voice, "That's right, human. Welcome to our little party." Immediately two fiends and a mssive moloch emerged from hiding, all slavoring from their tooth-filled maws. "How pleasant. We come to try to gather a few more beasts for our sacrifice, and we get to taste the tang of human blood."

Steerforth glared at the demons, swearing, "I'll see you back to Bethrezen's pit first. HEAP!" With the word, Heap launched from a thicket to the Legion fighter's right at a full gallop, his lance poised to take the first fiend in the throat. Steerforth didn't wait for the collision and spurred his horse into a gallop towards tha massive figure of the moloch.


[MT]

I am going to be gone until Monday, so I figured I would give this battle to start things off. Steerforth is going to be occupied with the moloch for a time, which leaves the two fiedns and the doppleganger for the rest ofthe party. The fiends can poison opponents, while the doppleganger can change his appearance, along with two handy fire spells and a summon Beliarh spell. Have fun!

[/MT]

[Marko]

Sir Heaps galloped charge ended with him implaing some demonic flesh. When he began searching for the results he had hoped to acomplish, the imperial knight had seen in dismay his long spear piercing the goat demons right arm stopping a few inches from the torso. Sir Heap couldn't do nothing more because the Fiend moved quick to reach with its left hand for the spear, grabbing it.

It took a couple of jolts, tuggs, demonic hisses and manly grunts to unhorse sir Heap. The Imperial Knight struggled to rise from the leaf bed and as he did, his own spear whizzed by him hitting a tree right behind. With the spear, close to his right ear, still flapping from the impact, sir Heap drew his sword, carefully placeing his legs in the ground for balance if he choose to atack or parry. The leaves, brown, orange and yellow gathered from years of shedding made a crackling noise as the imperial knight prepared himself. But all the leaves were silenced when the Fiend shriked, ready to atack and claim its share of human flesh and blood. Sir Heap raised his sword, relying on the many hours he has trained with it and said:

"Putting red eyes on an overgrown goat is a poor attempty by Hell to scare Me!"


On the other side of this small battlefield Sir Hill and Alric, were standing back to back and seamingly arguing.

"Move it Alric!" - said Hill watching the second Fiend closing in.

"I'm trying Robert." - Alric replied shifting trough his bag.

"Well you did bring 'em, didn't you?" - sir Hill was getting anxious, with every step the Fiend took, slowly as if measuring the powers and weak points of the human-dwarf duo. Snarling and breathing, exhailing sulfurous fumes.

"I know I did." - Alric said openning another pocket in the leather bag.

"Well, needless to say, Vik, but without those we'll be killing each other in no time soon!" - sir Hill did a flurry with his sword to make the Fiend think twice in comming nearer. It had an effect but a slight one, the Fiend continued its march.

"I know...!" - shouted Alric. In front of the dwarf was Chirando battling the doppleganger. When Alric saw him he urged for the hafling to retreat near them.

"Elf, you are too in front!" - the dwarf Alric said.

"Vik ! Leave the bloody elf for now. Find the potions!" - demanded sir Hill

"Fine!" - answered the dwarf, going to the next pocket of the bag. This time succes awaited him.

"I found them !" - said Alric with glee in his voice.

"Great!" - approved sir Hill - "Now use them !"

"Elf!!! Turn back now!" - Alric shouted as he turned to face sir Hills shoulder, rasing a potion flask in the air and chanting: "Polus rector meus os!" - then breaking the flask on the imperial knights shoulder. It left a red mark where the breaking took part. Alric gave a potion flask to Hill who chanted the same: "Polus rector meus os", breaking the flask on Alrics chest plate, leaving the same mark.

As Hill turned to face the first strike of the Fiend, parrying with his sword an atack. Alric tried again to warn Chirando to return.

"Elf...! I swear I'll give you a proper beating if you do not come here this instant!" - but as he said that, the dwarves fear came true, the doppleganger began to change. It took the form of the half-elves companion, the wolf. The Wolf-Doppleganger jumped at the Wolf-Companion and both strugled in a ball of fur, claws and teeth on the leaf bead. The fight was so ferocious that you could not make out what was what.

[MT]"Polus rector meus os" is latin for "Heavens guide my sight". The chant in combination with the difficult potion to manufacture makes a mark on the target of the chant-potion. The mark can't be easily replicated by a doppleganger. The potion was introduced during the First Great War, after a number of imperial battalions slaughtered each other because of suspitions of dopplegangers.[/MT]

[Marko]

Sensing the Half-elf near, Alric took out another potion. While chanting, the dwarf smashed it a pinch more harshly then he needed to on the back of Chirando.

"Next time listen to the veteran, would ye!" - cried out Alric as a clawed hand slashed trough the air between Chirando and him. On closer inspection it belonged to the Fiend, which missed sir Hill. Angered, the dwarf took out his axe and removed the hand out of his vicinity. With another slash Alric scored a deep wound in the Fiends arm. Sir Hill took another try at the Fined, while Alric turned to see what the Chirando was doing. Seeing the hafling somehow aiding one of the wolfs asked rather amazed:

"I hope, ye aiding the right wolf, aren't ye?"

[Marko]

"I hope, for our sake, that ye is corect!" - said the wide opened eyes dwarf seeing the ferocity of the wolf. The other wolf retreated back behind a pile of rocks. Another gush of wind moved upon the dwarfs neck from the swing the Fiend took behind Alric. The dwarf turned and joined the Imperial Knight, sir Hill, in his battle against the goat demon. When one of the duo distracted the demon, the other striked. This could have continued until the demise of the Fiend but sir Heap was in trouble. The dwarf and human looked upon each other and only by signs, fighting numerous battles together, they understood each other.

Sir Hill ducked and passed under the range of the Fiends clawed atacks, running, blade drawn, gleaming from time to time on the sun rays penetrating the leaf canopy of the forest. Leaves on the ground were tossed into the air, as leg after leg disturbed their silence and rest. The Imperial Knight, extended his sword behind him preparing to hit the goat demon, now sending a rain of potentially fatal atacks against sir Heap. The latter knight stood stalward and replled the atacks but fatigue began showing unwanted results. Several claw marks penetrated the steel armor of sir Heap, tricklets of blood streamed down.

"The poison!" - screamed in horror in his mind sir Heap, noticing the wounds as he moved away from another atack. The fiend cried out with a voice forged in the horrors of Hell. Sir Heap was certain that the Fiends bloodlust has reached a maximum and there will be no day tommorow for him, he prepared as best as he could. Until, he noticed a piece of metal shinning in a ray of light, that pierced a small patch of uncovered forest. Sir Heap recognized the sword of his fellow Imperial Knight, sir Hill. The impact, from sir Hills sword, sent the Fiend tumbling in front. Sir Heap needed only to step sideways and claim a slash acros the fiends abdomen. And the knight did this. The Fiend was wounded, but most certainly not dead. As it fell it made another swing, its' claws gauging lines of broken and shredded metal on sir Heap back plate. The Imperial Knight, screamed in pain as a small river of blood began to flow from each shredded canal.

The Fiend fell on the ground sending a cloud of leaves and dust into the moist forest air. The large wound, inflicted by sir Hill, was now visible. Oozing with vile demon blood and putrid steam rising from it. Sir Hill could be proud, for it was a deep wound. The other Imperial Knight, Sir Heap moved in for the kill. the Fiend attempted to rise and continue it's carving of human flesh but Heap was quicker. Tired but driven mad with revenge, he closed in and with a flurry of stabs, slashes and kicks all played in a symphony of anger driven moves, sensing how the poison was invading his blood, he made sure the demon stayed down and dead.

In the meantime, Alric and Chirando were busy with the other Fiend. Wounded it was, but still had enough demonic essence in it to keep on fighting. Playing the same game as Alric and Hill. The dwarf and half-elf did the same only more clumsy was their resolve. As always warriors fighting for the first time together do not have the same conections in their actions as warriors that have fought in past years together. And now even a wolf was involved.

Chirando began hearing a wierd sound behind him. As he quickly turned to inspect he saw a fiery pentagram taking life on the ground turning everything in its path into instant ash. The lines became numerous and more intricate, as if weaving a horror from Hell. As the horrid work of heretical magical arts became visible in its final concept a massive Beliarh appeared in its fiery glory in front of the hafling...

[Marko]

"Use the atack against wha...." - the dwarf stopped midsentince as he turned to see the new enemy.

"By Wotans beard marbles!" - Alric explamated observing the tall and wide demon. Light was absorbed in the skin of the Beliarh, creating around him a dark mist of echoes from the heretical magics. The demonic construct positioned itself for a charge, the curved hornes, sharped to a perfect point in the cauldrons of the Underworld, were made available to impale anything in its path.

Alric turned to the young half-elf, not knowing what to say. Chirando asked again, if he can unleash dangerous magics on the demonic construct.

"Ye must not!" - he said in the end - "Here's what..." - he said closing the gap between him and Chirando - "Can ye keep the new demon busy while I finish the Fiend?"

[Marko]

The Beliarh charged, tremendously shacking the ground with each and every step. The horns were lowered as if it didn't care who it hit. But most certainly if it did crash into something, that something wiil be pulverized.

The half-elf had to decide, will he stand in the Beliarhs path and attempt a valiant stand. Or be cunning and warn Alric for them to move out of the Beliarhs path.

[Blitz]

The mountainous moloch shoved a large elm aside to give it free access to the grove where the fighting was already embittered between the two forces. Steerforth had to ignore what was going on around him, pinpointing his vision on the orange and red mottled demon that doubled his own height. The paladin had fought the Legion before. Had held the tang of brimstone in his nostrils to spur him towards a holy battle frenzy. He knew their tactics. Knew that though the fiends and the doppelganger were serious opponents, it was the massive devil breeds of the demonic throng that served as the meat in the Legion’s grinding engine of war. The larder that armies pounded against while the destructive magicks and weakening tactics of the rest of the Legion battered opponents from behind the massive shapes. Steerforth couldn’t allow the moloch to become anyone else’s focus. Without the aid of the great demon, the others had a chance at breaching the defenses of the other three demons.

His tongue tripped over the words, an ancient blessing of the Highfather that gave an incandescent light to the blessed combatants of the Empire. The spell bolstered the strength of the Imperials, guiding their weapons to find true marks. It would be of only some assistance, but it might be enough. Meanwhile the moloch hissed in anger, cut-off from its position at the point of the demon ambush. Instead it leaned back on massive legs, its open wings masking the afternoon sun. From its jagged maw, two serpent heads emerged, hissing and coiling around each other, the demon’s tongues having a deadly life of their own. Similarly, one of the monster’s arms took the shape of an immense python that struck out at Steerforth on the back of the frothing charger.

Instinctively, Steerforth swung up his shield, hammering the serpent-arm’s strike into the tower shield with a satisfying thud. He swung the greatsword down, cleaving a swath of flesh from the side of the arm, is a brilliant white arc that glowed with holy might.

The demon howled in pain, showing a mixture of anger and ecstasy on its twisted face. It lunged forward, trying to rack the still charging stallion with the long claws on its other hand. The stallion wheeled, having experience the sweaty clamor of battle too often to be caught be such a blatant strike. The powerful war horses hooves rose and beat down the demon’s thick hand while Steerforth stabbed its forearm with the tip of his sword.

The moloch jerked it hand back, then surged forward, slamming into the horse and rider with all its weight.

The horse whinnied, unable to maintain its forward momentum under the massive bulk of the demon. Steerforth grunted in displeasure then blocked the demon’s hand with his shield, fully aware of the damage the claws could do, even against his blessed armor. He lashed out at the serpent-arm, keeping it at bay. Preventing it from wrapping around his white steed with a crushing grip. Then speared the demon’s shoulder with the sword.

The moloch shrieked in pain, pushing back to free itself from the steel tearing into it’s body. It wing’s pump the air, shoving it away from the horse and rider, freeing itself from the swordstrike. The momentum of the massive demon was enough to push the horse of balance, it staggered to the side, and Steerforth kicked his legs free from the stirrups. As the war stallion crashed to the ground, the paladin pushed himself free from a crushing blow.

He tried to roll as he landed, but the heavy weight of his armor hammered him into the ground, breaking two ribs. Gritting his teeth past the pain, he shifted to his feet, the shield close to his body, his sword pointed at the moloch to keep the beast from charging him again.

The stallion jerked up from where it fell, and bolted to the safety of the trees. Steerforth smiled at the animal, happy to see the years of relative quiet he had experienced since the attack on Temperance hadn’t dulled the training out of the horse. It knew as well as him that riderless, even as powerful of a stallion as it was, it was too defenseless against such an enemy. The best it could do was to give Steerforth room and hope that its master could overwhelm the demon without it.


[MT]

Great job so far. Keep it up! BTW, Marko, nice touch with the latin!

[/MT]

[Marko]

The Beliarh rumbbled past Chirando and Alric receiving from both a number of wounds. For the demonic construct these were nothing more then mosquito bites, semingly not careing as it left a dark trail of tainted blood behind. The Beliarh was extreamly geared up to hit something, that even the Fiend had to take measures in avoiding the charge. It eventually stopped, one meter short of felling a tree.

The two demons, Fiend and Beliarh, moved to corner the outsiders, Chirando and Alric, in a small river bank. The other side, compared to the one the dwarf and halfling have entered the stream was a high wal of dirt and roots.

Sir Heap and sir Hill started to move in help of the dwarf and Chirando, but from the bushes a ball of fire stopped them in their tracks.

[Blitz]

Steerforth grunted as the serpent-head of the moloch’s massive arm, pounded against the heavy shield. He roared, slashing past the shield with the greatsword, tearing only air, the pythonic arm jerked back faster than human reflexes could react. Again the serpent head battered into the shield. Again it slipped out of the biting blade before it could score blood. It was clear that eventually the shield would give. Rather than wait for the inevitable, Steerforth acted.

As the next hit pounded of the shield, Steerforth punched the serpent-head up. His sword missed the retreating arm by inches. Three strides put the paladin face-to-face with the demon, its breath burning like sulfur in his nostrils. He swung down his greatsword, only to have it blocked by the thick hide of the moloch’s forearm.

Unwilling to yield his advantage, Steerforth continued to hack at the demon, pushing the massive figure back. His blade cross-crossed around him, like a vengeful spirit trying to find purchase in the demon’s flesh.

One slash tore across the beast’s chest. Roaring in a sadistic mixture of pain and pleasure, the moloch surged forward, biting into the paladin’s shield. Its twin snake tongues wrapped around it, hissing at Steerforth’s exposed arm.

Offering the monster a humorless smile, Steerforth hacked down at the demon’s shoulder, the sword cleaving deep into the clavicle. The moloch reared back tossing Steerforth backwards through the air, his shield rent from his grip by the force.

His heavy armor drove him to the ground. He felt the two broken ribs shift further out of place, one painfully gouging into his lung, threatening to puncture the organ. But the paladin pushed himself back to his feet, refusing to back down.

Across the grove, Hill and Heap were pushed back by the heat of the flames that surged unnaturally across the forest floor. Sir Hill made a step to try to leap over the demonfire, his heart beating frantically, calling to aid his surrogate brother. But the flames sensed his movement and reached up for him, desperate to drag him into its consuming embrace. Desperate, Hill looked around for anything to help, until his eyes landed on the Heap’s spear shaft, still embedded in the tree trunk.

Ripping the spearhead out of the tree, Hill spun launching the spear at the figures past the flames, bellowing “ALRIC!”

The dwarf caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, and screamed a warcry at the fiend. The beastman squared his shoulders for the dwarf’s charge but never thought of the spear that sped towards him.

With a sickening thunk, the spear planted in the fiend’s shoulder, staggering the demon forward. Alric was ready for him, and pounded his axe down between the pair of goat horns that spiraled around the creature’s head, cracking it in two.

The demon screamed in horror as its soul was consumed back to hell and its body was consumed by the brimstone that flowed through its demonic veins. Free of one of the combatants, Alric and Chirando turned to face the onrush of the beliarh only to see the doppelganger behind it shift into a copy of the demonic construct, kicking the wolf off of its battered and clawed body. The second demon turned to join the other construct, glaring angrily at the two with only a thin layer of ice between the two groups.

[Blitz]

The two belairh began to circle the mage and dwarf, avoiding the insettled icy ground. "Watch it young one," Alric grunted, "the one closest to you be that doppleganger."

Past the licking flames, Heap staggered to one knee, feeling the cold fingers of the poison cling to his veins. Hill saw the man faulter, and pulled a potion from a pouch and tossed it to the injured man. Though it was insuffiecient to cure the deadly poison, it would be enough to heal the man's immediate wounds. However the knight continued to pace the outside of the flames, his attention on the two figures facing the pair of demons.

"Lord Steerforth," Heap croaked, feeling the magical liquid steel his body, the deep gashes in his body sealing themselves, the poison stalling as his body turned its abilities to fighting of the affects. The man stumbled to his feet an began moving to his lord's side.


[MT]

The spell was the Holy Strength spell. You can take what skills you need from the Life Spell list.

[/MT]

[Blitz]

The dopplegangers form shifted, and what Chirando had thought was the abominations head, turned out to be its arm that now hung by a tendon from the demon's left side. Suddenly afraid of its mortality, it fled through the safety of the flames and stopped. Heap stood between it and freedom, his sword glinting in the firelight.

Inside the flames, Alric leapt at the belairh, plunging his axe into the construct's neck. The obese demon howled in pain and knocked the dwarf free, his axe still embedded in the monster. Alric landed hardand rolled to unconsciousness.

Hill bellowed in fear and rage, pushing through the flames. Fire licked his exposed body. Gritting his teeth he pounded at the burning flesh, killing the flames that attacked his body and slid to Alric's side. Checking to see if he was okay.

The beliarh continued to howl, sctaching great canyons out of its flesh to dislodge the axe. Once free, the wound hemredged brimstone, cauterizing the wound.

The beast turned to face Chirando and bellowed in challenge.


[MT]

Sorry for the delay. Life has been very... full.

[/MT]

[Marko]

The Beliarh, blinded and wounded by the sword and axe, moved akin to a drunken peasant. Its arms extended to remove the foreign objects logged into its skin and body. It took some attempts, while Chirando and Hill grouped around the base of the tree, trying to bring back the dwarf Alric from his uncouncious state.

Hill kept his eye on the Beliarh. Seeing the demonic construct close to take out the sword and axe, Hill moved his attention from careing for his dwarven surrogate brother to openning the dwarves bag and shifting trough bottles of different effects. the knight placed his hands on a spheric bottle filled halfway with a clear liquid only slightly tinted to a red color.

"Elf, move Alric away."- Hill the knight said. In the meantime himself rising on his feat, placing his hands grip stronger on the bottle, transfering his fingers upon the surface of the glass as if readying himself to throw the bottle. And indeed he was trying to do just that, his body reacting to place itself in the corect position, while observing and taking heed of the the Beliarhs movements.

[MT]Had some issues I had to respond to in real life. Back now, sorry for the downtime[/MT]