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 Posted: Sun Oct 11, 2009 7:29 pm
The deserts of Sentria were not for the weak to tackle. Blazing heat scorched the sands during the day and frigid air chilled the nights, making traversing the lands difficult for anyone. Vicious sandstorms, unpredictable in their timing, whipped across the terrain, stirring sand into mighty dunes and slicing the tender, exposed flesh of anyone foolish enough to wander through. This day in particular was bright, not a cloud in the sky obstructing the sun from shining its light. The winds were particularly violent today, stirring sand as it gusted across the barren land.
But only recently had a peculiar structure situated itself among the sands. The locals spoke that one day it had just appeared out of nowhere, bringing with it an eerie field of nightmares. It stood tall, towering high above even the tallest dunes. It was a rather thin spire for its height, and it was composed of some unearthly reflective obsidian material that looked extremely durable. It had a fairly sound base, but slowly tapered as it reached its full height, finally slanting off into a fine point at its top.
The strangest thing about this new formation, however, was not in its structure, but in the space around it. It was bathed in darkness, even during the day; a barrier seemed to bar the area around the tower from external light, so that anyone within the general range of the tower would be bathed in an eternal twilight. From a distance, it would look just like a pillar of darkness, at its top a mass of swirling, chaotic clouds.
It was at the top of this mighty spire that a circular balcony opened, surrounding the apex. Under a creepy reddish-blue atmosphere, Vika stood, huddled in a thick cloak to protect herself from the chilled temperatures of this rift in reality. In her hand, the gilded mask was tightly grasped, radiating an ethereal aura.
"A child. I didn't think you had it in you, raven."
"I...I didn't want to." Vika's words were spoken aloud, hesitant.
A giggle. "Of course you wanted to. You needed blood for your mission."
"But she's just a child!" Vika shouted. "A child with a mother...a mother's who's probably so worried for her..."
"The child will be returned alive after she fulfills her purpose. Much like yourself, I would have qualms with seriously harming an innocent little girl."
The raven remained silent for a long moment. "A-are...are you sure?"
"Quite sure. Now, let's go back inside. The ritual must begin soon."
Vika remained frozen, staring out over the balcony upon the desert lands. She sighed, and then turned to reenter the spire. The highest room of the structure, it was very sparsely adorned. The transparent walls were thin, almost glasslike, a shimmering smokelike quality to them. Though the walls were tinted a deep ebony, the room seemed to be lit from some magical unseen source. Upon a small cot in the middle of the room, the child Amara lay, sleeping soundly. The newfound teleportation ability drained one's stamina quickly, moreso in one not attuned to the mysterious shifts in reality. Vika had recovered quickly, but the girl would be sleeping for a while longer.
"On the table, raven. A dagger and a vial. Use them."
Vika glanced over at a table, populated with many instruments and vials. It looked almost like an alchemist's lab. She paced over to it, setting the mask down upon it and picking up the mentioned vial and dagger laying upon. Then she turned back to the cot where the girl still lay, and knelt once she was immediately beside it again.
"I'm sorry..." She picked up the girl's arm, and with a slow, careful motion, she brought the dagger to it, slitting a fine incision approximately five or so inches upon it. She placed the dagger to her side and grasped the vial, uncorking it and placing it at the root of the cut. She allowed a fair bit of the blood to trickle into the vial, then corked it and placed it aside as well. Then she licked her fingers, placed one against the top of the cut, and with a crackle of light she traced the cut's length and set the child's arm back to her side in a comfortable position. The wound was healed.
She stood again, picking up the dagger and vial. She walked back over to the table, setting the vial down carefully into a rack and wiping the dagger of blood with a towel before laying it down as well.
"Our next target will be the famed sorcerer of Elibe," the mask spoke. "I believe his name is Bramimond."
Vika was quiet. "...Razevi, I need time to think," she spoke softly.
"Take all the time you need," was the curt reply.
Vika said no more. She somberly walked back out upon the balcony, spread her wings, and rose into the air for a fly that would hopefully calm her nerves.
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 1:00 pm
xxxxx"If you're worried about surviving, xxxxxxxyou can worry about it after you're dead!"
"The wyvern riders of Bern sit atop the heap of all other forces on the continent!" xxxxx "You will see our power soon!"
The flapping of large bat-like wings resounded in the sky in south-western Learania. Well, as far as wyverns go, the wings were small, but you get the point. A wyvern would make a bat its b***h. Upon the small, white wyvern, sat Mihira, who was searching desperately to find anything at all. She wanted ever so much to help. She didn't want to stop.
So far, she hadn't even seen a bird in the sky, and was running low on moral. She just kept on flying, hanging on to a small hope that she might find something.. anything. However, when she looked down, she realized that she no longer recognized the land beneath her. She had been recklessly flying around, paying no attention to where she was going. "Oh.. oh no! I'm.. such a screw up! How could I loose my direction?" She frantically looked around, trying to figure out where she was. "Oh, face it, Mihira... you're pathetic..." She then looked behind her, and her eyes widened. "I-is that... sand?! I-I-I'm in Sentria?! Oh no, oh no! I crossed the border! Commander Vaida said not to do that! Oh, I can't even follow one simple order..."
She began to look around frantically again, looking for the correct way back toward the castle. Once she made it far enough into Learania, she'd be able to go back to searching in her designated area. However, her wyvern was tired, as it had flown for a long while now. "I'm sorry... here, let's rest behind this dune, while I figure out which way to go." She said, as she took out her map, from her belongings. Once they landed, she turned around and looked up. Just then, she spotted a small black dot, flying up close to the dune. "Wait, what is..." She held up her hand over her eyes and squinted, as the figure stopped in the air, on the other side of the dune, away from her. "I-it's a person! A crow person!" She told her wyvern. She then looked closer, and gasped. "And a female, too! Longish black wavy hair... Just like the intruder!" The raven laguz then took off suddenly, back in the direction in which she came from. Mihira nearly tripped, as she darted back to her wyvern, and took off into the air, in an attempt to follow the laguz. At first she proceeded cautiously, then she got a little closer. She still kept a fair distance, though, so as not to be spotted. It didn't seem like she was noticed.
As she continued to follow the laguz, she began to see a tall dark thing appear over the dunes. "What... is that?" She whispered to herself. As she continued flying, the thing got taller and taller. "A... tower?" The laguz then flew up to the top, where a balcony jutted out, and Mihira saw her land on it and walk inside. "This is... I.. I-I have to report this! This could be it! Come on, girl, let's get back to the castle!" She then flew around and darted back to the Learanian border. She could find her way from there. "Everyone's waiting..."
 W y v e r n L o r d V a i d a*
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 11:41 pm
A bright glow appeared atop a dune in the endless deserts of Sentria. The light formed a circular rune, around five feet in diameter, complex diagrams hinting at the powerful magic within. As the rune completed itself, a shimmering wall of light rose from the edges, and as the wall rose to a height of about seven feet, the glowing rune began to rise. As it rose, a dark robe began materializing underneath, and as the glittering symbol reached the top of the barrier, it disappeared in an instant, leaving in it's wake a very irritated Archdruid. As his material self finally arrived in the harsh wasteland, he began to wonder why it was his job to look out for things of possible world-ending importance, and why they had to decide to end the world in a desert, instead of somewhere where his heavy black cloak might be a little more appropriate. ”Well, no matter,”, he thought. ”Just get in, get out, and go home. Maybe to a nice bland bowl of oatmeal.”
The winds blew sand and other particulate in small eddies around him, blowing Bramimond's cloak back and revealing the black robes underneath, embroidered with arcane sigils. He turned his back to avoid the stinging spray, and shut his eyes tight to protect them. Once the gale stopped, Bramimond's thoughts turned to how annoying it would be to get the sand out of his sleeves, and decided to continue with his objective. He stared into the distance, seeing the tall, slender spire, as well as it's corona. The darkness would have startled a lesser man, but Bramimond did not have much left in him to startle. He focused his gaze upon the area around the spire, specifically a spot just in front of it. As he reached out with his will to the ambient forces of magic, the glyph once again appeared beneath his feet, just as it did when he first arrived from his home, and as the curtain of light rose and the sigil ascended, he felt himself being whisked away, a slight wind ruffling his clothes, and light momentarily blinding him. As the light receded, he found himself feet from the cool dark material of the spire.
Bramimond took a few steps forward, and ran his hand against the stone. It was smooth, almost eerily so, and felt cool to the touch, despite the heat of the desert sun. He looked up, and realized that this change in temperature was most likely because the sun's radiance seemed dwarfed somehow within this area, more so than it looked from the outside. As the sorcerer's fingers gently brushed against the features of the spire, he felt a small tickling in the back of his mind, as if this place was just wrong somehow. Bramimond knew to trust these instincts, but also knew that he couldn't leave until this phenomena was thoroughly examined. He would just have to take his heebie geebies into consideration. He took a few steps back from the spire, and looked straight up. His eyes fell upon a balcony, which lead into the spire, to a room that he couldn't see into. He decided that this would be a good place to start. ”None of that mucking about with minions. Let's find who's in charge.”
As Bramimond focused his attention to the balcony, he felt the connection between the two places being strengthened by his considerable magic, and as the symbol once again appeared under his feet, he felt the change in temperature from the gentle warmth and grittiness of the bottom of the spire being replaced by the cool, gentle breezes at the top. As the light washed over his face and the rune disappeared, he found himself at the top of the spire, standing on the balcony. ”Nice aim, if I don't say so myself. Just as planned.”
Bramimond's eyes flew across the room, taking note of as many features as they could. He noticed that the walls looked a little...eerie, and that the room itself was sparse. He saw a cot in the middle of the room, upon which lay a small child; a girl. He saw a table that wouldn't look out of place in his own lab, but the wood of the table seemed off. The grains only went in one direction, as if it didn't come from a tree at all, or at least not a natural one. It reminded him of the taste and texture of the food he conjured for his meager meals. Thoroughly uninteresting, just the bare minimum of detail to exist. Upon the table were countless alchemical devices, as well as a small knife, and a vial of blood. ”I knew things weren't going to turn out well,”, Bramimond thought. ”Blood magic never does.”
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Posted: Fri Oct 16, 2009 8:06 pm
Vika had returned from her flight rather weary. Her thoughts conflicted, and her motivations felt wrong. Yes, a child had been the easiest for her to obtain, and would far be the easiest to keep situated for however long the ritual would end up taking, but it just felt horrible. Vika was accustomed to a life of loneliness, but she knew the child had a nurturing mother. It wasn't right for her to have taken the girl. But there was no turning back now. With Razevi's help, they would complete the ritual. And then, the child would be returned. For now, the girl would rest, and she would be okay.
Vika decided that at this point she needed a shower to calm her nerves. Though this spire was still unfamiliar to her, she understood that she was very much in tune with the rift in reality, and she could summon most whatever she wanted within it. Closing her eyes, she focused around her and felt herself suddenly falling through the floor to another level of the spire. A few moments passed, and she immediately paused upon an empty level of the spire. She opened her eyes. Around her was a wide open area: circular, massive, empty, and it was lit solely by an orb of light at the very center of the room that pierced the darkness. Satisfied, she disrobed, and with a wave of hand a fine mist of hot water and steam began pouring down upon her from a wave of chaos that had opened up above her.
***
It seemed like only a short time later that she heard that voice in her head again. "Well," Razevi spoke within her mind, "it would appear as though our visitor has arrived. Timely, too."
Vika froze, ceasing her motions. "H-he's here? Now? I need to get dressed, what do I say...?"
"Raven, I can speak for you...if you allow. I believe I can find the words necessary to sway such an enigmatic figure."
"What? H-how?"
 No further words were said. Vika felt an odd presence creep inside her skull, as if unseen hands were grasping her mind and holding it within them. She became a spectator within her own mind as the presence took control of her motor functions. Her hands raised, and the world flaked away around her in chips of darkness, piece by piece until they finally found themselves back in the topmost room of the tower. The instruments, table, and the girl herself were absent. Vika immediately became aware of her nudity in the glass room, but a towel was conjured out of nowhere, and she found her puppeted hands grasping it and wrapping it tightly around herself. Finally, she was drawn along as her body walked a few paces forward and picked up the mask that lay upon the ground, and it was placed upon her face. She turned around to face the visitor. She spoke, and it was her voice. But it was not her.
"Greetings, famous Bramimond of Elibe. You've been expected."
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Posted: Sun Oct 18, 2009 1:42 pm
As Bramimond continued to examine the room, he suddenly felt that something…wrong was about to happen, and he began to feel another presence intrude in his mind. At first, it seemed feminine, worried, scared, and Bramimond had to fight the feeling to feel the same. But then, the waves of emotion he began to feel changed, and he felt another presence, also feminine, but this one powerful, confident, and more malicious. Then, he turned his eyes to the child sleeping on the cot. ”These feelings couldn’t possibly be coming from her…could they…?” Then, almost to answer his question, the girl began to vanish, little bits at a time, as if she was being evaporated. Then, the table and instruments began to follow suit, as small flakes of darkness began to rise off of them, until the girl, the table, and the vial of blood disappeared, along with everything else in the room except the eerie glass walls, still almost writhing with smoke.
Then, in the middle of the room, Bramimond could feel another presence taking shape. Small flecks of shadow began coalescing, the same way that the other objects all vanished, and in a matter of seconds they formed feet, rising up to create a whole humanoid shape, humanoid, because on her back were a pair of large black wings, most certainly functional, as she ruffled the feathers and stretched. The whole effect seemed similar to his own teleportation, except this woman seemed to just make it happen, instead of harnessing magic and performing spells, as he did. As the woman looked down, her shoulder-length black hair obscuring her face, she seemed to realize that she was naked, and plumes of steam were rising off of her body, and small beads of water were still falling off of her, as if she were just in somewhere very humid and warm. She held out her arm, and a long, purple towel seemed to just unravel out of thin air, it’s presence sending chills down Bramimond’s spine. ”Something is definitely wrong here…”, he thought, as the towel was wrapped around her body by her slender fingers. She walked a few steps, almost as if she didn’t even know that the archdruid was there, or she didn’t care. She stooped down, and picked up a mask, half red and half yellow, and placed it on her head. As soon as the mask was put on, Bramimond felt a shock in his mind, as if something had just arrived, and was throwing off waves of eldritch energy imperceptible to all but him. All of this seemed to just get stranger and stranger, even more so when the woman began to speak.
“So, you know of me. Why might I be expected? I certainly wasn’t expecting you.”
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Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2009 11:10 pm
"Of course I know of you. You're quite famous, you know." She strode towards him, reaching out a hand to stroke his cloak. "Famed sorceror of darkness, one of the great Elibean Heroes involved in the Scouring that locked the dragons into an alter realm. Even in this faraway land, stories have been told and spread around. To not know of you would be...well, quite foolish." She grinned slyly at him.
"You have been expected because I need your assistance in performing a ritual. Rumors tell that you can raise the dead. And, well, surely you must have seen the instruments that were once in this room before I arrived to greet you. The rituals require a magician of great strength, and you would fit that description." With a nod, she laughed. "I wish to resurrect an old friend of mine, and that's where you come in."
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Posted: Wed Oct 21, 2009 10:19 pm
As the strange woman paced around him, Bramimond followed her with his eyes, trying to keep them under the brim of his hood. Last thing he wanted to do was make eye contact with someone who seemed to hold the strange powers this meagerly-dressed woman had. ”Strange things happen when I make eye contact with people...”, he thought.
Her hand stroked against his cloak. He showed no outward response. “So, you know of me, and the massacre I helped perpetrate. What ritual could you possibly need me for? You seem to have quite a mastery of the arcane.”
His heart skipped a beat when he heard the details, a feeling that Bramimond had long since forgotten the feeling of. Not much could surprise the Archdruid. “And what motivation would I possibly have to do this? Blood magic? The work of demons. Nothing good ever comes from it, and you generally lose more than you put in. Messing with quintessence, with souls? Not something to be taken lightly. What could you possibly offer me? I may still be mortal, but I do not bribe easily.”
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Posted: Wed Oct 21, 2009 10:56 pm
"Aha...but this 'mastery of the arcane' is but borrowed. I love it, but it is not permanent." She giggled. "I must divulge more of my intentions, then? It's only fair to tell you, as I'm asking a great deal of you. See...I may have been a bit vague before, but I should tell you that I wish to resurrect an old love of mine. Surely you can't deny that, however blackened the magic? Surely there's a soul left in there somewhere..."
The hand holding the towel to her body loosened as it migrated away from her body, the towel falling limply to the ground as she grasped his shoulder. Bramimond was a shell, and perhaps she could press a vision into him. "The stories tell of another..." The presence within Vika's mind focused intently, and Vika could see visions of a blonde-haired maiden from her spectator position. "A holy bishop of light..." A strange feeling pierced through Vika, one less natural than the draft circulating around her now-nude body that she was powerless at the moment to correct. It was a malicious aura, and it seemed to be feeding from her into Bramimond intensely, beckoning him for his support. "The one you used to love... my own love is only the beginning. Assist me, and perhaps we can pool our powers together and move on to greater subjects. I know you would love to resurrect your long lost love of eons ago." She giggled once again.
"I believe her name is Elimine."
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Posted: Fri Oct 23, 2009 5:41 pm
Bramimond raised an eyebrow at this woman's claims. ”She borrowed her power? Something strange is going on here...as if I didn't already know that...” He listened patiently as she began giving more minor details of her plan. “A love of yours? While that may be one of the more...'worthy' causes for such blasphemy, it's not enough. Love, no matter how strong, cannot pierce the veil alone. And you've pointed out the biggest problem with using this spell. It's dark magic, one of the darkest. I shall not help you with this sin. I have enough stains on my soul, I shall not add another. Besides, if I started reversing the natural flow for every two-bit despot and strange half-naked raven woman, I'd never get anything done.”
As he began contemplating just going home, Bramimond felt a hand on his shoulder, and he felt a presence forcing itself into his mind and soul as the woman's towel found it's way to the floor. ”The stories tell of another...”, she whispered in his ear, and an image began forming itself in his mind, an image with shining blonde hair, and a gentle face. ”A holy bishop of light...”, she purred, and the vision began to sharpen, the detail increased, and any doubt about who the woman was in his mind was dispelled in one shining moment. Bramimond gave a small gasp.
He then felt a strange presence in his mind, as if his shattered mind were being submerged under a wave of pure mental force, stronger than he could defend against, and with the visions this woman had shown him, he wasn't sure if he wanted to. He heard the woman speaking of lost love, and her offer of assistance. Bramimond fought, reminding himself that he's supposed to hold the moral high ground, and that he's supposed to be the valiant hero who is beyond temptation.
But he was only human.
“...I would need supplies. And a large body of quintessence to draw from. Preferably...” He gulped, to fight his gag reflex. “Preferably alive. Animals will do.” He felt sick from the mere thought of what he was considering doing. “If you can give me that......then it might be possible.”
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Posted: Fri Oct 23, 2009 10:07 pm
"Any instruments or supplies you would need are within reach. All you must do is ask. As for our source of 'quintessence'..." She giggled. "A presence from the east would indicate that it is on its way to meet us." Vika felt her arm being raised to the sky above, and though neither her nor Bramimond could see it, at that precise moment in time numerous monsters - mogalls, gargoyles, mauthe doogs, exactly the kinds of horrors one would expect in a chaotic twilight realm - rose from flecks of darkness upon the chilled sand below. They began their eternal roaming, guarding the base of the tower with their lives.
"As far as your arrangements...please don't hesitate to let me know if there's anything you need. I can set up a room to your liking. Just let me know what you'd prefer." Removing her hand from Bramimond's shoulder, she ran it seductively down Vika's nude front, Vika's usual attire unraveling from nonexistence and wrapping itself around her body as the hand moved. Finally, when that was finished, she took a few steps towards the archdruid. "I'm so glad you've decided to assist me." The possessed laguz brushed past Bramimond and moved out onto the balcony. Gazing out upon the eternal sands, she murmured to herself.
"Should only be a while longer... compared to the eternity I've spent in here, it'll hardly hurt to wait a little longer." She laughed softly, readjusting the mask upon her face.
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