Thread: Whispers in the Night
Monday, 13th February, 2012, 11:25 PM #11
Having spent longer than expected in her preparations, the hostess returns after three hours silently to the room while Anaerion reads the bardic tales. While he is engrossed in the story, she moves behind his chair and whispers, "Time for the tests to begin." Having come to expect the unexpected in this place, Anaerion is not spooked and calmly waits for his next order. "Close and place the book on the other chair." He obeys. "Stand and put on this blindfold. We cannot afford to have your mind wander while traveling through my home. And I guard my privacy well." Anaerion hesitates slightly, and then puts the blindfold on. "Now repeat the ritual." As he starts to recite, she takes his hand and recites her own ancient draconic incantation. Anaerion's practice pays off as he is able to perfectly recite the incantation despite the distractions.
"Malkorvian is the name of the spirit that will inhabit the vessel. He has chosen to join you in your journeys. He is longing for new stories to tell and you and your journeys shall provide them." She places a smooth prism gem in his left hand, and a weighted wooden ball in his right. "Cast Mage Hand to show Malkorvian how it is done." "But I..." Even thought Anaerion had not memorized the spell today, the gem in his hand warms and he is able to to cast the spell. "Now, raise the ball in your right hand to an inch past your fingers. Good, now spin the ball." Not seeing his target, it takes more concentration to to accomplish her commands, but he is successful.
Placing her hands on his shoulders, "Walk while keeping the ball spinning." She guides the blindfolded elf through the house, behind the velvet curtain that sweeps open across the floor before they arrive and through several turns in the back hallways.
Anaerion feels a tingling sensation wash over his body. This new room bristles with energy and life. Plants brush his legs as he continues to walk, birds sing, animals growl, chatter and hiss. After another thirty feet, she pulls back on his shoulders and he stops. She adjusts him slightly, so that he is standing next to a slowly bubbling stone cauldron.
"You have been holding the ball up. Keeping the ball rotating and the same distance from your fingers, turn your arm down. Start repeating the chant over and over. After the first completion, push the ball into the mud ahead of your fingers and keep it spinning."
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Defender (Lvl 8)
- Join Date
- Sep 2010
ø Ignore jackslate45
Anaerion stuttered only once, at the moment he felt the magical sensation wash over him. However, long trained to focus intensely on his current task (which he learned after pouring over hundreds of tomes and books), does as instructed. He was walking a little slower than he normally would be, given that his concentration was split between chanting the Draconian ritual, holding the ball out a set distance and spinning it, and navigating in the dark.
In front of the cauldren, he could feel the heat raising off it. Spinning the ball over, he repeats the ritual once over. Having repeated it so many times now he speaks the ritual once, while moving his arm to match (what he believes) is a perfect 90 degree angle to the cauldron. He tries to time it so that his intake of breath of the first syllable of the second time through, the ball passes into the cauldron.
"Deeper" she commands. Anaerion follows her orders, pressing his hand into the mud deeper, so that it comes half way to his elbow. "The final test."
Anaerion continues his chanting as she starts her own. With a flash of pain, his protection from the heat disappears. He struggles to maintain the chant while the scalding liquid sears his flesh.
Seeing him struggle and about to falter, with a single word, she strengthens his body's commitment in a most cruel and unusual way. Anaerion's hand will not move to retract from the molten liquid. His lips will not move to chant the words. He continues the chant in his mind as he tries to block out he pain.
Just as the pain becomes unbearable, it suddenly stops as if it is just no longer there. Blindfolded, held immobile, he can only continue to focus on the chant in his mind.
Meanwhile, she lets the severed hand sink in to the molten mithral, seeing as the slice from the keen katana had been clean and true.
Knowing the 'boy' is in no real danger because of her preparations, she leaves him immobilized as she starts her precarious part. Having not dismissed her fire resistance, she reaches in and retrieves the hand. Smoothing and shaping the metal, she poses the fingers and inserts a sandstone rod at the other end to make the hole for the eventual pendant chain.
With a long incantation few have ever heard, she binds Malkorvian's soul into the bones and metal. He flexes the fist a couple times before finding a comfortable place to rest. Once he is ready, she drops the hand holding Malkorvian into a bucket of water, quenching the heat and sealing the form.
Turning back to Anaerion, she pulls the blindfold off. Even though the ring and the air around them have been doing their job slowly, she casts a regeneration spell to speed his recovery. "I have never had someone offer up their own hand before. Quite impressive." With a wave of her hand, the hold person spell is dismissed.
Anaerion looks at the stump which has already started to grow back.
"In a minute or two when you have recovered, you will put the blindfold back on, and Rollifilo will lead you back to the chairs where you will sit. I still have work to be done to finish Malkorvian's binding and training."
The demonesque servant is hovering patiently, waiting upon your recovery to lead you back to the main room. She turns and retrieves Malkovian from the bucket of water, continuing with her work.
Last edited by Satin Knights; Tuesday, 14th February, 2012 at 11:43 PM.
Defender (Lvl 8)
- Join Date
- Sep 2010
ø Ignore jackslate45
Anaerion could not believe that his own hand was being used to create this new amulet. He shuddered a little bit as his hand slowly grew back, thanking the gods that the only thing needed right now was his hand.
After a few minutes of watching the woman work, Anaerion flexes his hand to ensure that it worked. He stood up, nodded towards the flying creature, and blindfolded himself. Once he felt being tugged in the right direction, he started walking back towards the area where he first came in.
Last edited by jackslate45; Thursday, 16th February, 2012 at 02:39 AM.
Once Rollifilo has returned Anaerion to the main room, he removes the blindfold and motions for him to set. Dutifully, he does. The homoculus turns to the other chair and heaves, straining to lift the story book, but moves it, placing it in Anaerion's lap. He then silently returns to his perch to watch over the room.
After a couple more hours of reading, the lady comes out from behind the curtain. As she crosses the room, "We are finished. Malkovian is enjoying his new home. Things have gone better than I expected. He will protect you well in your travels. And you shall be his feet."
"I have three more demands left."
"My ring back." Anaerion happily takes off the ring, offering in back, but it is Malkovian who snatches it up with his mage hand ability and returns it the hostess.
"The coin you expected to pay when you entered." Malkovian tries lift this as well, but the pouch of coins is too full hand heavy for him. She steps forward and takes the pouch.
"And lastly, swear on your soul you shall never battle against a dragon." Anaerion's heart races and flutters. She was reading his mind from the moment he stepped in. "You must respect the dragon!" Absolute fear sets in as Anaerion feels he is now the center of attention, for the gazes of all the dragons in the paintings have turned and are now focused on him. Some are reaching though, gripping their frames and preparing to pounce. Flustered and scared, he gulps and then gets the words out. "I swear!"
"Thank you." With his oath given, she spreads the delicate mithral chain that Malkovian dangles from and places the necklace around Anaerion's neck. Smaller than it was before, the three inch mithral hand still stands out prominently on his chest. Turning and walking over to a book case, she snips a rainbow rose and returns. Placing the rose in his hair behind his ear, "Remember, you shall tell no one of what you have seen or done here. I value my privacy."
"You may take this book as well." handing him the story book he was reading. "We are done. You may go."
"Th-thank you." As he walks out, the pictures continue to stare at him.
Once on the street, those who notice the rose as he approaches, turn and, not so discretely, move in another direction.
"Mistress, Mistress, we may have found him! We may have found the sleeper!" "Settle down Peet. What news do you have?" "My apologies mistress for shouting. Sleeth, our newest tarnished dagger member was listening to the old Song of the Hunt last night, and he recognized a blade described in the song. A blade that passed through weeks ago. Our dagger is stationed in House Masarinni. Apparently, the Masarinnis had an expedition that was under siege, and needed to send in supplies to the expedition. In the group was a woman with skin white as snow and hair as silver as, well, umm" unable to even finish the sentence.
"Where have they gone?" "To the jungles near Sangre de Sol my mistress. There is a large dig a week out from that city." "What else did he see or hear?" "He thinks the woman introduced herself as Cay Lyn." "Nothing more?" "He is young my mistress. Give Sleeth a decade or two and he will get better at remembering what seemed trivial at the time."
"This is a start. I have to consult with an old friend. You have done well. Tell Sleeth that I am proud of him. To awaken the sleeper will be a grand day indeed."
Her consultations went well, as it had been a very long time since the two had spoke. He was most surprised to hear of the news and would be available if needed, when the time was right. But for now, he would wait for more news to be brought to him. For her, every minute detail of the blade was fresh in her mind. After parting, she started preparations. This was going to be an extended hunt. Something she had not done in decades. But, the prize was great, so she assembled every trick that she could. While she had never bothered to learn to enlarge spell areas, as this search could easily use, extending them was second nature to her.
Once prepared, she heads to the roof of her home. An aerial search will be the fastest. But being seen leaving home for an extended time would not be wise. So, the casting begins. She disappears from view and prying eyes. With more casting, she takes flight. But even this is unsatisfying. So, she lets loose. As her arms extend and her body shifts, her quiet flight turns into the heavy flapping that even those with great power fear to ever hear. She climbs higher and higher into the night sky, circling over Venza. The City of Glass is a magnificent sight at night from upon high. But she has work, so she gets her bearings and heads out. After a few miles, "Well, so much for stretching out these wings, there is no need for the slow path. To Sangre de Sol it is." Considering her size, the pop of the teleport is audible to birds who may have been passing.
After using several extended locate object spells while in flight, she finally feels her senses pulled. A battle below is starting. The white haired woman does have the prize. Now the work begins. Her consultant wants to know if this woman is worthy, so patience is going to be a virtue. Going invisible again, she picks her plan. Pulling a scrap of cloth from her haversack, she tosses it to the ground along the path. It returns to its natural state. A dead orc on the side of the road is nothing special considering the dinos the woman is fighting. Using a silent teleport object, she sends her haversack containing her other tools home. At last, she changes forms back to her old favorite, she lays down beside the orc, dispells the invisibility and waits.
Last edited by Satin Knights; Saturday, 31st March, 2012 at 11:03 PM.
"Interesting..." she thinks. The group is taking the anonymous body back to their encampment. It was just a disposable orc she had picked up at the undertakers, but it does show there is compassion in the person she has been asked to study. So far, she is looking worthy of carrying a paladin's blade. Time will see.
Examining this woman that carries her is getting to be a fun game of cat and mouse. But being prepared for this, quickened silent memory lapses are keeping this woman quite in the dark about her visitor. Just as she notices something mystical starts to affect her, the thought fades away. The investigation is going to take days, with timeouts for recharging spells, but with being nearly immortal, the visitor has the time.
This woman does carry the lineage and heritage of her proud old friend. But, there is another heritage that is also tainting this soul. The internal conflict is very polar and fascinating. The power struggle may make the coming task more difficult. Well, not difficult, but painful. Only time will tell.
On the other hand, the slumbering child, he is another story. The curses laid upon him are quite evident. But they would not be strong enough to keep one of her children silent for any length of time. Surely not hundreds of years of slumber. Delving deeper, she finally sees the connection. "That's a viscous combination! I will have to tuck it away and use it myself someday." Knowing her friend would not approve, she will keep the secret from him. Understanding what she does now is half the battle. Undoing the damage of this magnitude will take delicate preparations. Analyzing the battle to come will be difficult. Only a handful of souls in this world could attempt to free Hafisbita from his prison. Therefore, it must be a trap designed to shift the balance of power in the world. Careful planning and exacting execution will be required to not get caught in this trap. Then again, she could wait out the balance of the 780 years. He would wake up on his own. Unless it was extended. That would be truly cruel. She tucks that thought away too.
"Mistress, Umm, I have another report for you.
Quote, It's him. It's him. Toad Kisser is back. The dirty one. Unquote.
I don't understand it either, but the newbie wanted that passed on to you."
"Mortals and their strange customs. What do you expect from them? It was probably the one more interested in whiskey than a wounded man. It doesn't matter. I have my mission."
Thinking to herself, "At least this woman is worthy of honor. Now if she will just pause to sleep so I can get some work done. Ah well, she will do that some time. No need to interrupt this rescue. A paladin is joining the cause. Maybe she will learn a thing or two. It is good for her to see a example of what she can be."
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