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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 988067" data-attributes="member: 1210">Meanwhile....&quot;So,&quot; Marius the Chronomancer breathes softly.He sits at a simple wooden desk crafted by allies called from other planes, in a simple wooden cabin built by the same.&nbsp; Erected along one wall is a large, highly-polished mirror.&nbsp; He stares intently at it, scrying for potential allies in the coming storm.&nbsp; And he's found disturbing signs.They've already gotten to so many of the greatest wizards, he thinks grimly.&nbsp; My simulacra have done well for themselves.&nbsp; I suppose there's a certain amount of pride to be taken in that... but they're very dangerous.&nbsp; Too dangerous.&nbsp; And with the magic they've developed- their so-called spell of liberation- I dare not give them too much time to act.He considers the situation.&nbsp; A simulacrum, no matter how empowered, cannot learn or grow in power.&nbsp; It is limited to whatever energy is within it at creation.&nbsp; But it can spend that energy, at least to the limits it is able, and create more of itself.&nbsp; If it does not make them more powerful than itself, it will maintain control over them... and if it does empower them to be beyond itself, it will already be aware of the consequences, unlike me in my arrogance.&nbsp; I had to learn the hard way; the fact that they were the result means they already know.&nbsp; I know at least one of them has already essayed to make one even more powerful than itself, but I'm not sure about the rest; and I know they've broken apart, at least in location- not sure if they're working together or not now- and have approached and 'liberated' simulacra constructed by several of the more powerful practicioners of Cydra.&nbsp; Furthermore, I know that both Orbius and Malford have simulacra in their places right now- and they may have been subverted.&nbsp; I do not know for sure, but I do know that neither Malford nor Orbius is aware of the danger.He sighs.&nbsp; Well, the first thing to do is to research a spell designed to destroy them.&nbsp; Marius' deconstruction, I'll call it...He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and reaches out with his mastery of time and grabs hold of the flow.&nbsp; Like sand, it trickles through his fingers, but as he closes his mental fingers it slows... slows... slows... until his demiplane is passing at a far different rate than the Material Plane.&nbsp; I have all the time in the world, he thinks, but so do my simulacra.***&quot;They still have not triggered the spell,&quot; hisses Tamult.&nbsp; His fists clench.&nbsp; &quot;How long must we wait?&nbsp; Have you forgotten that they slew our brother Chemnu?&quot;&quot;I have not forgotten,&quot; intones the Master of the Bile Lords.&nbsp; &quot;The spell will trigger when they are most vulnerable.&nbsp; To attack before then, when they have already shown so much might, would be foolish.&nbsp; Have you forgotten?&nbsp; They broke the seal.&nbsp; They destroyed the Crux Crystal.&nbsp; The bile no longer flows through the mountain.&nbsp; The land around it is cleansed.&quot;&quot;And so we wait,&quot; Tamult sneers.&quot;For now.&quot;&quot;And if the spell is never triggered?&quot;&quot;We have time,&quot; the Bile King answers.&nbsp; &quot;Have you forgotten how long your life may be, so long as it is fueled by the bile?&nbsp; Have you forgotten how long you and your brethren were locked within Bile Mountain?&nbsp; Have you forgotten that they will age and lose their strength, that they will wither to helplessness before they die?&quot;&quot;I have not forgotten,&quot; Tamult says through gritted teeth.&nbsp; &quot;But I thirst for vengeance.&nbsp; It is not impossible that they might outlive us, given the right conditions.&nbsp; And it is not impossible that they will try to assail us again.&quot;The Bile King nods.&nbsp; &quot;And yet none of them could stand before our combined fury.&quot;&nbsp; Slowly he draws his long blade from its sheath.&nbsp; There is the hiss of dripping liquid as bile bubbles from the edge, splashing on the marred stones at his feet.&nbsp; &quot;None could stand before my blade.&quot;&quot;Then let us go to them, my King!&quot; Tamult urges.&nbsp; &quot;Let us seek them out and slay them all!&quot;&quot;We have more important matters to attend to first,&quot; the master of the Bile Lords replies.&nbsp; &quot;We must find the Queen.&quot;***Nigel smiles at the portal.&nbsp; The strange, writhing creature, all silvery feathered tentacles, pulses beside him.&nbsp; Nigel's head has swollen to almost the size of his chest, pulsing veins and arteries plainly visible beneath the surface.&nbsp; Since his apotheosis so much has been plain to him, and nothing is clearer than his need to seek out the entities beyond the portal.&quot;This is it?&quot; the tentacled, writhing creature asks from its weird, lamprey-like orifice.&nbsp; &quot;This is the portal to my home?&quot;&quot;Yes,&quot; breathes Nigel exultantly.&nbsp; &quot;Yes- to our home.&nbsp; I am one of you now.&quot;&nbsp; He turns and regards the creature, almost fluid in its writhing shapelessness.&nbsp; Its colors are beautiful to him- they are the colors of the unnatural.&nbsp; Of the pseudonatural.&quot;Well,&quot; comes a voice from behind them, &quot;you've done your part, so you may use the portal at your whim.&nbsp; I caution you, though- it is very dangerous beyond.&quot;Nigel turns to Marius.&nbsp; &quot;You remember that?&quot;The chronomancer nods.&nbsp; &quot;Oh, yes.&nbsp; I don't recall everything that my progenitor did- but that which I do recall, I recall far better than he.&nbsp; Beware, Nigel!&nbsp; The forces you will encounter are enough to drive any man mad!&quot;&quot;Bah,&quot; Nigel waves a hand dismissively.&nbsp; &quot;I'm not worried about it.&nbsp; And besides,&quot; he grins, &quot;I'm mad already.&quot;Taking a deep breath, he steps into the Far Realms.&nbsp;Next Time: Back to our regularly scheduled story, as our heroes look for the Book of Olaf in the Library of Voldaith!</blockquote>

[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 988067, member: 1210"] [b]Meanwhile....[/b] "So," Marius the Chronomancer breathes softly. He sits at a simple wooden desk crafted by allies called from other planes, in a simple wooden cabin built by the same. Erected along one wall is a large, highly-polished mirror. He stares intently at it, scrying for potential allies in the coming storm. And he's found disturbing signs. [i]They've already gotten to so many of the greatest wizards,[/i] he thinks grimly. [i]My [/i]simulacra[i] have done well for themselves. I suppose there's a certain amount of pride to be taken in that... but they're very dangerous. Too dangerous. And with the magic they've developed- their so-called spell of liberation- I dare not give them too much time to act.[/i] He considers the situation. [i]A [/i]simulacrum,[i] no matter how empowered, cannot learn or grow in power. It is limited to whatever energy is within it at creation. But it can spend that energy, at least to the limits it is able, and create more of itself. If it does not make them more powerful than itself, it will maintain control over them... and if it does empower them to be beyond itself, it will already be aware of the consequences, unlike me in my arrogance. I had to learn the hard way; the fact that they were the result means they already know. I know at least one of them has already essayed to make one even more powerful than itself, but I'm not sure about the rest; and I know they've broken apart, at least in location- not sure if they're working together or not now- and have approached and 'liberated' [/i]simulacra[i] constructed by several of the more powerful practicioners of Cydra. Furthermore, I know that both Orbius and Malford have [/i]simulacra[i] in their places right now- and they may have been subverted. I do not know for sure, but I do know that neither Malford nor Orbius is aware of the danger.[/i] He sighs. [i]Well, the first thing to do is to research a spell designed to destroy them. [/i]Marius' deconstruction,[i] I'll call it...[/i] He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and reaches out with his mastery of time and grabs hold of the flow. Like sand, it trickles through his fingers, but as he closes his mental fingers it slows... slows... slows... until his demiplane is passing at a far different rate than the Material Plane. [i]I have all the time in the world,[/i] he thinks, [i]but so do my [/i]simulacra. *** "They still have not triggered the spell," hisses Tamult. His fists clench. "How long must we wait? Have you forgotten that they slew our brother Chemnu?" "I have not forgotten," intones the Master of the Bile Lords. "The spell will trigger when they are most vulnerable. To attack before then, when they have already shown so much might, would be foolish. Have you forgotten? They broke the seal. They destroyed the Crux Crystal. The bile no longer flows through the mountain. The land around it is cleansed." "And so we wait," Tamult sneers. "For now." "And if the spell is never triggered?" "We have time," the Bile King answers. "Have [i]you[/i] forgotten how long your life may be, so long as it is fueled by the bile? Have you forgotten how long you and your brethren were locked within Bile Mountain? Have you forgotten that they will age and lose their strength, that they will wither to helplessness before they die?" "I have not forgotten," Tamult says through gritted teeth. "But I thirst for vengeance. It is not impossible that they might outlive us, given the right conditions. And it is not impossible that they will try to assail us again." The Bile King nods. "And yet none of them could stand before our combined fury." Slowly he draws his long blade from its sheath. There is the hiss of dripping liquid as bile bubbles from the edge, splashing on the marred stones at his feet. "None could stand before my blade." "Then let us go to them, my King!" Tamult urges. "Let us seek them out and slay them all!" "We have more important matters to attend to first," the master of the Bile Lords replies. "We must find the Queen." *** Nigel smiles at the portal. The strange, writhing creature, all silvery feathered tentacles, pulses beside him. Nigel's head has swollen to almost the size of his chest, pulsing veins and arteries plainly visible beneath the surface. Since his apotheosis so much has been plain to him, and nothing is clearer than his need to seek out the entities beyond the portal. "This is it?" the tentacled, writhing creature asks from its weird, lamprey-like orifice. "This is the portal to my home?" "Yes," breathes Nigel exultantly. "Yes- to [i]our[/i] home. I am one of you now." He turns and regards the creature, almost fluid in its writhing shapelessness. Its colors are beautiful to him- they are the colors of the unnatural. Of the [i]pseudonatural.[/i] "Well," comes a voice from behind them, "you've done your part, so you may use the portal at your whim. I caution you, though- it is very dangerous [i]beyond."[/i] Nigel turns to Marius. "You remember that?" The chronomancer nods. "Oh, yes. I don't recall everything that my progenitor did- but that which I do recall, I recall far better than he. Beware, Nigel! The forces you will encounter are enough to drive any man mad!" "Bah," Nigel waves a hand dismissively. "I'm not worried about it. And besides," he grins, "I'm mad already." Taking a deep breath, he steps into the Far Realms. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Back to our regularly scheduled story, as our heroes look for the Book of Olaf in the Library of Voldaith! [/QUOTE]

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