Discordibus Mundi

[Quantum Leek]

The Prophecy

​

Chamis, Son of Augur, was known throughout Fydine as The Prophet. His coming bode ill, almost without fail. As the son of one of the Eight True Gods, his word was taken as gospel. And this day, his gospel foretold coming doom. He presented himself to the people, delivering his prophecy and moving on to the next location. He appeared at the Solace Center for Magical Education in the morn; moments later he stopped a train bound for the Conclave of Archmages; from there he visited the Seat of the King in Naloma. To all he spoke the same words.

Hail. Your lives, your homes, and your very existences are threatened; your petty differences must be set aside. The war is coming.Your cooperation with each other is of the utmost importance. If you are to survive this war you must be able to pool all of your resources. To beat this foe will require the resources that you only have when together. Your enemy will be otherworldly; if you intend to keep your world, I suggest you cooperate. Keep your enemies close, keep your friends closer. You have a fortnight before the world becomes a pit of fire and bodies; it will require Light and Darkness to close the bridge from this world. Divided, you will be destroyed--together, you stand a chance as the most unstoppable power in the world. Remember the nature of existence; Light shines all the brighter--not to destroy darkness, but to lengthen and strengthen shadows. Light and Dark, Black and White; they cannot coexist without an agent to bind them together, and keep them wrought until the end. Chamis, The Prophet

By midnight that night, all corners of Fydine had heard The Prophet's words; if not from his mouth, then from another's. His message left much in doubt, save one thing: war was coming.


Before dawn broke on the following morn, word began to spread of trouble brewing at the Tower of High Sorcery. The Archmages had discovered Dark fluctuations in the aether surrounding the Tower. It looked, reports said, as if something was trying to break down the barriers of their world. By noon, half of Fydine had heard that not only was something trying to break into their world, but that that something was The Underworld. It was as if, after a million years of torment, demons, spirits of darkness, and all manner of terrible beings had turned to bind together in a desperate attempt to break free.

By the following day, a physical crack had begun to form on the earth's face. It exuded Dark energy and reeked of demonspawn. It grew wider and deeper by the hour, and the Archmages calculated that it would bridge the gap between their world and the next in exactly thirteen days, just as Chamis has foretold.


Frantic messages ran the width and breadth of Fydine; a desperate plea for help: join with the Tower, or fall. Spirits rallied slowly, remembering The Prophet's words, however, Lansimar sent its finest, its strongest, its smartest. Itaamar responded less readily, loathe to become involved in affairs of Magic; but they came, nonetheless. The forces rallied, day by day, hour by hour, the trickled in, building a veritable fortress around the Tower.

But as the days passed and the crack stretched, it seemed they would be too few....


New cracks sprung up, two on either side of the Tower--none so large, but one nearly twice as deep. From these cracks stretched Dark tendrils--echos of the horrors that lay beyond. Any who drew too near would be set upon, their very lifeblood drained from them by shadowed hands and dark claws. Morale sagged among the troops assembled.


But still more trickled in. Plans brewed, the army grew and they waited for what was to come....

 

[DrakeAlistair]

Location: Tower of High Sorcery: Mage Quarters Common Room


Feeling: Weak and Hungry


Interacting With: @DancesWithVulcans

Nikomis Crimsongaze



​

The trek down somehow seemed much longer than the way up the Tower had been. Without his plans to occupy his mind, Niko was painfully aware of how many steps there were between the Council Chamber and the floor with the Mages' Quarters. It hadn't been all that long ago that he could hardly walk on his own two feet; the amulet had made him complacent with his physical abilities, since then. But there was no more denying it--the power stored inside was waning. Nikomis had expected as much when he'd retrieved the artifact; it was a necromancer's amulet, and it had been inactive for centuries. The groundwork for the spell was still there, like a skeleton waiting to be filled, a building frame waiting for walls. All he needed to do was replenish the spell, dust it off, so to speak, and

feed

it.




There was something more, though. The amulet didn't just need to be replenished, it

wanted

it. When Niko raised a hand to touch the lump hanging beneath his cloak just above his sternum, he could Feel it's hunger.






Feed me

...




By the time Niko reached the correct floor, he knew he had no choice but to obey. He was winded, clearly struggling to take another step. He needed the amulet's power in order to complete his plans and, more than that, the spell's hunger was beginning to affect him. It's desire was his desire.




Niko pushed the door from the stairwell open and entered the common room that separated the Mages' quarters from each other. The room was scattered with furniture, armchairs and lounges, but was largely uninhabited. The sole exception was a single apprentice. He inhaled deeply and experienced something he never had before.




He could

smell

her blood--hot and alive--coursing through her veins. The smell was so intoxicating he nearly forgot that he needed a plan--a plan a little more discrete than a knife in the common room. Besides, his own apprentice could be anywhere. If there was one person he needed to remain ignorant of his budding plans, it was her. No, the common room was

definitely

out. Instead he required somewhere more discreet, somewhere he could complete the short replenishing ritual without being interrupted. Somewhere that the paladins and mages wouldn't be able to detect forbidden magic being cast.




His mind lighted on the workroom he had begun preparing the previous day. Yes. That would do well. All that remained was to get the apprentice to the workroom.




Niko's mind worked on overdrive as he took one tremulous step into the common room. He hardly had to exaggerate that; with the amulet's power waning, his own strength left much to be desired. Without his staff to lean on even walking was difficult.




A few shaky steps later, he engineered a stumble; it was planned, but once he let his feet lose track of the step there was no turning back.

 

[Quantum Leek]

Master Shivali "Demonsbane"


Battlemaster's Tent


After receiving directions to the Battlemaster's tent, things went smoothly. Shivali moved easily through the remnants of the crowd, keeping one eye on her young apprentice to make certain that he didn't fall behind. He did a well enough job, and they made good time across the camp to the big tent with several flags flying over it. There was a messenger standing outside--a young boy not much older than her apprentice. Likely as not, some Mage's apprentice. Some other Mage's apprentice, she corrected.


"You--boy--this is the Battlemaster's tent, yes?"


The boy gave a startled nod, looking up at her with wide-eyes.


"Go in and announce me--us. Shivali Demonsbane and apprentice, here to see the Battlemaster." And whoever was with him, judging by the sound of voices from inside. The messenger stared at her for a few seconds before she made a sound of annoyance--somewhere between a growl and a snarl--then he jumped to do as he was told.


From inside the tent she heard the voices pause, then: "Shivali Demonsbane and her apprentice to see you, Battlemaster, Ser."


The Battlemaster must have made some sign that this was fine, because in the next moment the boy returned and held the tent flap open for them. Shivali swept in, with Kysuo moving in her wake. Inside, the tent was as roomy as it looked. There was enough headroom for the very tall Battlemaster to stand up straight--if he raised both hands over his head, he would still only reach the tent in the lowest spot. The space was partitioned with several curtains; they stood in the main area, now, and with them stood the Battlemaster, a few paladins, and a long, high table with a map spread on top.


As soon as they entered, her apprentice gave an audible gasp. Shivali half-turned to glance at him, but in another second her eyes were drawn back to the paladins. The biggest among them was at least twice as wide across the chest as Shivali--if she had stood next to him she would barely have reached his chest.


"That boy is a demon," Said the paladin, reaching one hand across for his sword. It wasn't halfway out of its sheath before Shivali had one crossbow leveled at his face.


"That boy is my apprentice, and as such, is under my protection." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Kysuo ducking behind her. She kept one arm outstretched with the crossbow, finger on the trigger and ready to go, the other hand reached behind her to touch her apprentice's shoulder; he was quivering, and she wouldn't have been surprised if he was preparing to bolt--or something even more stupid. She clapped a shield down around him--she would shoot the paladin if he made a move, but the last thing she needed was her apprentice making a bloody mess in the Battlemaster's tent because he was afraid. "One of us has a ranged weapon--take a guess what happens if you pull that sword out."


The other two paladins were standing with hands on hilts, looking stunned. The looked from Shivali to the big man, who evidently outranked them. The Battlemaster stepped forward, coming between Shivali and the paladin.


"Ser Shieldheart, Master Demonsbane, please," His voice was strong, commanding--the sort of voice Shivali expected a Battlemaster to have, even if his young face didn't match. This was one time when her title seemed to do her more good than harm, so she didn't object to his use of it. A tense moment followed; Shivali clearly couldn't shoot the paladin through the Battlemaster, but he still had his hand on his sword.


Finally, Ser Shieldheart cleared his throat uncomfortably and released his grip, raising his hands in surrender. Shivali lowered her crossbow. The Battlemaster breathed a sigh of relief.


"But he is a demon," Ser Shieldheart insisted.


"So he is," Shivali returned, tone venomous. She holstered the bow and half-turned to check on her apprentice. "You alright?"


The boy gave a tremulous nod, but didn't step away from her.


Rigarius cleared his throat loudly, "Be that as it may, he is evidently not trying to break out of the Underworld and invade the Tower, and as such, I think it's safe to give him the benefit of the doubt." His tone sounded impatient, as if he was tired of holding Ser Shieldheart back from harmless children already, and it was only noon.


"Ser Shieldheart, this is Shivali Demonsbane, renowned demon hunter and Mage; I asked Shivali to come, personally--I believe she will be a huge asset to our cause. Shivali, this is Ser Thotlin Shieldheart, the Hand of Afflatus."


Ser Thotlin nodded grudgingly at her. Shivali didn't return the favor.

 

[Quantum Leek]

S E R | E Y C I L | o f | L L Y N B E C K

​

It took some time, but the paladins were finally getting situated in their designated space. Eycil's Sergeant was busy drawing quadrants and assigning space for each troop, white-clad soldiers were moving back and forth, setting up tethers for their mounts, hauling water, pitching tents. Eycil had made certain that enough people knew where to find the nearest well, as well as the quartermaster, and the privy. Then she had handed her mount off to one of the other paladins in her battalion and asked her guide for directions to the Battlemaster's tent. There was something that Ser Thotlin needed to know--and the Battlemaster, too, as likely as not.


The Battlemaster's tent was near the center of the camp; there were several large walkways that lead directly up to it. It was a practical choice--the head of the army would always have people coming and going from his tent, it was best if they didn't run into each other. Also, it certainly made it easier for someone like her to find. In addition to being in the middle of everything, it was a big tent with banners flying over it. Eycil lifted her eyes and looked up; there were several different flags: one for Itaamar and several different ones representing Lansimar. She understood that the west didn't really have a flag, by itself. Unlike Itaamar, Lansimar was not a Kingdom and had no political leader. The closest it came was the Council of Archmages, and so, among those flags representing Lansimar was the eight-pointed star. Eycil dropped her eyes and focused on the task at hand.


There was no door, so she could not knock, but there were voices coming from within, and so she pushed back the tent flap and announced herself.


"Ser Shieldheart, Battlemaster, I beg an audience," Eycil stepped inside, standing at attention with one fist against her chest.


The voices inside the tent quieted as five pairs of eyes turned to look at her. Ser Thotlin was there, as well as two other high-ranking paladins, the Battlemaster, and a woman that Eycil didn't recognize. They were standing around a long table, which bore a map of the area and was marked with pins. She didn't have time to ponder the meaning of the different pins stuck into the map, however, because Ser Shieldheart spoke.


"Ser Eycil, is aught amiss?"


"No Ser, all is well with the troops--but there is something you need to hear, and the Battlemaster as well. It concerns the war."


The Battlemaster exchanged a look with Ser Thotlin, then nodded briefly.


"What is it?"


Eycil reported in a level voice, her at-attention pose never wavering, "Last night I saw The Lord, and He spoke unto me: 'Beware The Dark Star, for it draws darkness and corrupts everything it touches.'"


A stunned silence followed her words. The paladins made the Sign of Afflatus on their chest, in reverence of her vision. The Battlemaster looked surprised, but not unduly so. The unidentified woman, however, looked shocked, then disbelieving, then completely bemused. After a moment, the Battlemaster spoke.


"Does this... mean something to you? What is 'The Dark Star'?" He looked from Eycil to Ser Thotlin. Both of them shook their heads. The Lord Afflatus had not deemed it necessary to give Eycil more information than this, but even this little bit, surely, was of the utmost importance.



​

 

[DancesWithVulcans]

Amala was on the cusp of drifting off when she head footsteps echo across the stonework of the common room. She was bent over a number of spellbooks bound in white leather characteristic of white magic, with notes and quills scattered all over the large oak desks dotted around the room. She started and green eyes snapped open to take in the empty common room. Her mage master and fellow apprentices had left her behind at dawn, citing that at just 13, she was far too young to be wandering about the tower amongst the soldiers. Shy and timid, she hadn’t thrown a fit like she truly wanted to, and had agreed to stay put and study whilst they were away. Amala expected them back around sundown, but she feared the recent arrival of the Paladins were likely to delay them.


At first glance, Amala saw nothing but what she assumed to be normal shadows cast by the windows of the room. But, upon closer exception the shadow she’d spotted in the doorway was revealed to actually be a person. She blinked to clear her eyes and squinted as the figure appeared to be none other than Nikomis Crimsongaze.


Her mind helpfully pulled up the horrific rumors she’d heard about the man… evilness, the child-eating, blood drinking, Shade worshiping, murdering-type rumors. His apprentice wasn’t with him either… usually, he was accompanied by some sort of pixie or sprite, if she wasn’t mistaken. They were always together according to rumor, so where was she now?


Something wasn’t quite right, she felt, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was. But then, Crimsongaze stumbled, and Amala was instantly on her feet. Every instinct she had as a medic was on fire, despite her apprehension at dealing with the dark mage.


“Master Crimsongaze?” She called, nervously palming her sunshine colored locks. “Are… are you alright?”


Amala scuttled across the room, clearly nervous, but far too concerned about the clearly not alright mage master to resist the dread that was slowly building in her chest. Something was terribly wrong, and she could practically hear Tamara, her elder sister and fellow apprentice, howling at her to listen to her ‘inner Afflatus.’


“Forgive me Master, but you do not appear well. Shall I fetch a healer for you?”

 

[DancesWithVulcans]

The Apprentice Lindzi

​

Where: Tower of High Sorcery: Hovering above the Battlemaster's Tent

How:Nervous/Curious


Who: @Quantum Leek

Shockingly, Lindzi quickly grew bored of the mundane confrontation occurring below her. It was very clear that nothing dramatic was going to come from the encounter, and neither person was going to ask for a messenger, and so Lindzi stood, stretched and took to the air with a small hop. She made quick progress of making her way across the Tower grounds to follow the sounds of clanking metal towards Paladins encampment.


Lindzi figured that the Paladins were the most likely to have messages to deliver considering that they had just arrived at the tower. Despite her own weariness of the group, she had told Niko that she was going make herself useful while he was with the Council and she fully intended on keeping her word.


She bounded through the sky, wings in and cautious, but high enough above the tips of the tents to go unnoticed by all but the most observant. Her shadow was clearly visible on the trodden earth after all, although she was almost hoping that she would remain unseen by Paladins currently bustling about beneath her.


As always, Lindzi kept her ears open, allowing the wind to whip around her and whisper in her ears. It carried with it a cacophony of voices and sounds; orders being given, sparing sessions breaking out, fears being shared in hushed tones. She was a pro at blocking out irrelevant voices and news, but there were certain words that she was always sure to pick up on. And as she passed over the Battlemaster’s tent, she heard the word, “Darkstar.”


The word caused the pixie to freeze in mid-air, unsure of why the word was so familiar to her. She’d heard it before, surely, but she couldn’t remember where… or when. Lindzi almost kept moving, but something told her to stay put and to eavesdrop. Again.


If I get caught… again… She grimaced at the thought. This is terrible idea….


She glanced down at the tent and frowned, a half remembered phrase about a cat and curiosity tickling at the edges of her mind. And yet, with a silent sigh of defeat, she settled in for her second round of eavesdropping on the Battlemaster for the day.

 

[DrakeAlistair]

Location: Tower of High Sorcery: Mage Quarters Common Room


Feeling: Weak and Hungry


Interacting With: @DancesWithVulcans

Nikomis Crimsongaze



​

Just as Niko had predicted, the little apprentice was immediate on her feet, rushing to his aid. A lifetime of practice manipulating others kicked in, and he easily fell into the 'misunderstood and clearly harmless' persona. She was young, and while she had likely heard of him by reputation, she would be easy to sway. It was lucky that he had happened upon such a perfect target sitting alone in the common room--and a white apprentice, as well. Those fools could never resist helping someone in need.




Niko had been pathetic enough times in his past to know firstly, that he never wanted to be again and secondly, how to reproduce it. He knelt on the floor with one hand bracing him for support, the other grasping at his chest as he took deep gulps of air, as if trying to catch his breath. His posture was nonthreatening, his shoulders hunched ever so slightly; all semblance of the cold-blooded Mage who had just declared that he could do the work of ten Archmages had vanished. Instead there was just a young man, desperately in need of assistance but a little embarrassed to admit it. The persona was engineered, but the weakness was more than half true. He tilted his head to look at her, though his hood cast shadows over his eyes, somehow his gaunt cheeks and just-barely-too-long hair gave the impression of a sickly invalid, rather than a skeletal monster.






"Oh,"

he spoke, his voice breathy with not a hint of his usual confidence and cold venom.

"I beg your pardon--I was looking for my apprentice, but she is not here, either."




He paused and raised a hand to cover his mouth as he was overcome by a fit of coughing. When he recovered himself he waved a feeble but dismissive hand,

"No, no. A healer is not necessary. I will be well enough in a moment, I am certain."




With a great show of effort he pushed himself upright, then pulled himself to his feet with the assistance of a nearby armchair. He stood, leaning heavily on the chair and trying to catch his breath again for a long moment. It was something of an exaggeration, true, but the fake fall really had taken a lot out of his stamina. It would be a chore to get back up the stairs.






"I suppose if she is not here, I shall have to go back up those stairs on my own,"

He glanced back toward the door, exuding reluctance.






"I left my stick, you see--without it I'm fair worthless,"

Niko flashed a shaky and timid smile at the apprentice.

"Ah, well. There is nothing for it. I must go back up."




He turned toward the door, steadying himself on the chair and beginning the daunting trek back toward the stairwell.

 

[Quantum Leek]

Master Shivali "Demonsbane"


Battlemaster's Tent


"And you, Mas--apologies--Shivali?"


All eyes turned toward Shivali as the Battlemaster addressed her. She was still looking pensive, but the feel of everyone in the room looking at her brought her thoughts back to the present.


"Ay?"


"Does Ser Eycil's vision mean anything to you--this Dark Star that the Lord Afflatus mentions?"


After a moment she nodded slowly. For a moment she didn't elaborate, but merely tugged at one lock of hair, apparently deep in thought again. The others waited, some more patiently than others. The Battlemaster merely stood, his hands braced against the map table as he looked at her, giving no hint to hurry. Ser Shielfheart, on the other hand, shifted, and made a face that said very clearly well out with it, then!





Finally, Shivali composed her thoughts. She began speaking suddenly, as if there had been no pause at all.





"The name--Darkstar--is a title given to one of the more unpleasant demons of our history. The demon usually manifests as a male, often looking very much like a human, excepting his eyes, which are said to be blood-red. Some sources refer to this demon as 'Darkstar,' 'The Dark Star,' or merely 'Virgil.'" Shivali paused, still pulling absent-mindedly as a lock of her hair. The puzzled look came back over her face. "He was an unpleasant fellow, by all accounts, but what I can't figure is why the Lord Afflatus would send warning of him. Virgil Darkstar has not been heard or seen in the last thirty years--a conspicuous absence, at first, but eventually it was taken for granted. The dark corners of the world are all a little safer for his absence, but now... now I wonder if it was all some ruse."


The others considered her for a long moment, evidently surprised at this information. It was the Battlemaster who eventually broke the silence.


"Well, we must trust that Afflatus would not draw our attention to this demon if it was not worthwhile--what else can you tell us about him?"


Shivali considered, digging into her memory banks to recall everything she had ever learned about the so-called Dark Star. Her father was a scholar, specializing in the study of demons--both contemporary and historical. She had done her best to learn about all the notable figures from the past few decades to further her own education.


"Virgil Darkstar makes numerous appearances throughout history, appearing in old books, diaries, letters, and so on. Personally, he's painted as a mischievous creature, wholly selfish and incredibly powerful. Centuries ago he was said to have led a scourge of demons across Fydine; maiming, killing, and causing havoc for no apparent cause other than entertainment. Some time later Virgil gained his reputation for corruption; it is said that he would seduce people to him--man, woman and child--and take over their bodies. Over the next few weeks or months, the person would be at his whim, only able to do as they wished when he allowed. Subjects were reported to act erratically, to speak in a voice that was not theirs, to show magical gifts that they previously did not have, and various other things. One of the most notable features of the possessed was that their eyes would turn red... deep crimson red like those of the demon. Furthermore, it is said that anyone who looked into the eyes of someone entrapped by him, would open their own mind to Virgil. This possession eventually culminated in the madness and death of the host, at which point Virgil would find a new target and the cycle would begin anew.


"This continued for decades, at least, that is, up until around thirty years ago when suddenly all reports of possession by the demon stopped. The last person who showed these signs was a woman in a village southwest of Naloma--nothing seemed unusual about her case; when her son found her screaming in an upstairs room he had the wherewithal not to meet her eye. She was bagged and hauled off by the paladins and eventually burned, and that was the last anyone heard of Virgil Darkstar. Some have ventured to hope that the paladins managed to kill him in their holy fire--but there's no reason to suspect that to be true."

 

[DancesWithVulcans]

Amala’s heart broke for the man before her. She felt like a monster for her earlier reluctance to help him; how could anyone think a person like him was a threat. He looked a stone’s throw from the Otherworld, for the Gods sake. It was so odd as well, that he could prop himself into such a proud shape in the company of others as well, she’d seen him glide across the grounds before an intimidating swirl of black. And yet, he was always followed by his apprentice whose bright expression often ruined his intimidating presence.


“I’m sorry, Master, I have not seen her.” Amala replied as the mage master confirmed her earlier suspicions. Guilt continued to rain down upon the mageling; she couldn’t believe she’d taken part of the rumor mill surround the odd pair. Of course they were always together, Crimsongaze was clearly in need of his apprentice’s assistance. She glanced towards the tall windows, hoping to see the pixie hopping into the room.


“Mm… but, if you’d like, I can help you up the stairs to retrieve your walking stick!” She shuffled forward, hesitantly reaching out to support him. “It would be a welcome break from studying.”

 

[DrakeAlistair]

Location: Tower of High Sorcery: Mage Quarters Common Room


Feeling: Weak and Hungry


Interacting With: @DancesWithVulcans

Nikomis Crimsongaze



​

The thought of actually climbing the stairs with the assistance of another human--of making physical contact with someone who was not Lindzi--sent a shiver of disgust up Niko's spine. Despite his revulsion, there really was not deny that this was exactly what he needed to do. He had carefully engineered this entire scene for the express purpose of procuring her help, little though he needed it. He could have made it well enough on his own, if that had been his intent. But it was not--simply going up to the workroom was worthless. The intent was to lure the child up to the workroom with him. And so Niko had no choice but to accept the offered help.




Niko flashed another hesitant smile in her direction as she reached out to help support him. It was an award-winning fake, his lips trembling ever so slightly as the corners twitched upward with gratitude. He steeled himself for the contact and managed to suppress the flinch that came when she touched him. This was merely a temporary discomfort--soon it would be over, and the result would justify his suffering.






"I could not possibly ask--"

Niko paused, timing his words carefully, as if he were reluctant to accept her offer. He sighed, to this end.

"I suppose I have little choice--it would take me much longer on my own..."






"Very well, but I won't let you neglect your studies a moment longer than necessary,"

he said, with a hint of wry humor in his tone.




Very carefully, diverting precious self-control to the effort of not pulling away, Niko shifted his weight to the apprentice's shoulders, allowing her to steady and support him. The smell of fresh blood was intoxicating up close, and Niko could feel the hunger of the amulet around his neck. It seemed to grow heavier, and he could very nearly hear a faint whispering voice emanating from it.

 

[DancesWithVulcans]

The Apprentice Lindzi

​

Where: Tower of High Sorcery: Quietly having a panic attack behind the Battlemaster's Tent

How: Panicking/ Horrified


Who: @Quantum Leek

Virgil Darkstar.


Lindzi knew that name. Even if she wish didn’t. She wished that the memories she had of Virgil parading around in a Niko-suit would erase themselves from her mind. She wanted to erase the ghost of thin gloved fingers gripping her chin hard enough to bruise, the crushing clausterphobia of the darkness bubble closing in, the feeling of her boots beginning to burn.


Lindzi blinked, and she realized she had been thrust from her waking nightmare from the feeling her feet impacting the trodden earth, hard. She’d managed to land behind the Battlemaster’s tent, close enough to continue to eavesdrop on the oral history of the being she feared the most. Her stomach had abandoned her once she’d realized just who they were discussing, but her heart was making a valiant effort to flee as well as the woman inside mentioned that he had not been seen in thirty years.


Niko was near thirty years old, was he not? Had that hellspawn been tormenting him since birth? Surely not, she attempted to reason, a baby would have been nothing by a snack to Virgil is what the woman inside was saying was true.





“…the most notable features of the possessed was that their eyes would turn red... deep crimson red like those of the demon.”


Lindzi was suddenly finding it quite hard to breathe. Her right hand was gripping her chest in a white knuckled death grip, the other was covering her mouth in an effort to stifle her panicked breathing.


Was Virgil coming back? Was Niko in danger? Was she in danger? Her blood turned to ice and she sank into a crouch. If Virgil took over Niko again he would, without a doubt, kill her. She’d been lucky too many times in the past to be able to escape him again. She wouldn’t even be able to see him coming! Didn’t Niko seal him away? Had the spell failed?


Her chest grew uncomfortably tight as the woman finished her tale for the poor woman in Nalmoa. Just another victim amongst centuries of terror. How had Niko survived this long? Lindzi slammed her eyes closed and focused on trying to control her erratic breathing, tried to calm the shaking of her limbs.





Worst case scenario.


And would could she possibly do? It wasn’t as if she could simply ask Niko if he was actually Virgil playing pretend, the thought was so absurd that she dismissed the notion before she’d even finished the thought. She couldn’t tell anyone else about it either. They’d never discussed the matter but she knew that to reveal it would be the gravest of betrayals. She was completely stuck with nowhere to turn.





Fu----

 

[DancesWithVulcans]

The longer she interacted with the infamous mage master, the worse Amala felt for judging the black mage so harshly. As she moved to help support him, she found that the man seemed to weight practically nothing. In fact, it seemed that the majority of his body was an illusion created by his robes.


“It’s my duty to help, Master! Worry not, this counts as studying!”


Amala kept her expression peaceful, drawing on lessons on how to remain calm in stressful situations as, even though she felt terrible for judging the man earlier, the sense of dread she felt remained as strong as ever. She made her way carefully, double tapping each stair with her toe before she stepped down as the folds of her charges robes tended to obscure the steps. Her pace was slow but steady as she eager to be done with her task but mindful of Crimsongaze’s apparent fragility.


“Did you see the Paladins arrive?” She asked in an attempt at small talk. “I watched from the windows, they were spectacular!”

 

[DrakeAlistair]

Location: Tower of High Sorcery: Mage Quarters Common Room


Feeling: Weak and Hungry


Interacting With: @DancesWithVulcans

Nikomis Crimsongaze



​

In truth, it was a welcome reprieve to have assistance climbing the stairs. The descent has been exhausting enough, and Niko had doubts about his ability to make it all the way back up to the workroom without incident. However much he loathed the feel of another person making such complete contact with him, the revulsion was drown out by an ever-growing hunger. Every step the took upward increased the hungry feeling--not in his stomach, but in his chest--until he was nearly drowned in it. When the little apprentice spoke again, prattling away about something pointless, it took all his remaining self control to maintain his frail and harmless persona. He reminded himself that he was a friendly and weak mage, rather than one starved for blood.






"I did hear the horns announcing their arrival, but was up above at the time,"

Niko supplied, voice tight with strain, but still--miraculously--peaceable.

"I try to avoid confrontation with them. I have a certain... reputation which invites conflict with paladins and their ilk."




They were nearly to the floor with the workrooms, and the amulet seemed to beat against his chest with a heartbeat independent of his own. With a jolt of surprise and excitement, Niko realized he had not yet witnessed the artifact when it was fully sated. According to his research, a human life could sustain it for several years of heavy use, but the amulet had been lying dormant in a tomb for centuries. There was no way of knowing when the last time it had been fed was. He could

feel

the power waning inside of it--at if it was an extension of his own lifeblood, and he suddenly knew precisely how far he could push it before it gave out. There was enough left... enough for one more large exertion before he replenished it.




In spite of his growing excitement, Niko managed to keep his outward emotions calm and friendly. It would not do for his prey to flee before they reached the trap. They arrived at the floor of the workrooms, and Niko guided her toward to door of the room he had laid claim to the day before.






"This is the room I used--my stick ought to be inside,"

Niko said, his voice came out in a thin breathy line, showing the strain that climbing the stairs had put on him, in spite of her help. He kept a carefully controlled amount of weight distributed over the apprentice's shoulders, so that he could feel he clearly needed her help even to walk, now.




With his free hand he pulled the door open and guided her inside, allowing her to walk in front of him, so that he could keep one hand on her shoulder, since the doorway was too narrow to allow them to walk abreast. Inside, the room looked exactly like one would expect a ritual workroom for a black mage to look like. There was a large seven-pointed star inscribed in a circle drawn on the floor, surrounded by Magi symbols, all written in a red-black substance that looked suspiciously like blood. In the center of the circle was a triangle of black pillar candles, unlit, but partially melted, and against the opposite wall, lining up with one point of the star, was a archway that had never been part of the building. It looked odd, as if it had been walled-over, leaving only the frame remaining. An archway that lead nowhere at all, and it whispered in a thousand voices at once, exuding dark power. To one side, against the wall, was a small table of blackened wood containing several spell components: A blood-red root the size of Niko's forearm, three rat tails, a crow's foot, an empty phial, and a long, crooked, obsidian knife, which seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.




The one thing that was

not

in the room was a staff.




The door swung shut behind them, and with an inaudible click, the wards around the room were sealed again. No piece of magic could slip out of this room to be detected outside. No piece of magic could slip in without Niko's consent.

 

[DancesWithVulcans]

Halfway through their journey up the stairs, Amala finally recognized the feeling of dread and apprehension she was feeling. She was sensing Crimsongaze’s dark magic. She’d felt similar pangs of uneasiness around dark mages before, but being so close to one, especially one so gifted, seemed to have magnified the sensation… at least, that’s what she was telling herself. Something powerful and very Dark was stationed at their destination, she knew, as her desire to flee was growing stronger with each cautious step upwards.


Niko mentioned that he often had conflicts with Paladins and Amala couldn’t help but let out a bell-like giggle.


“I would not take it too personally, Master. I hear that are quite fearsome on the other side of the river to all magic users besides themselves.” Amala pointedly ignored the man’s labored breathing, acknowledging weakness in others was often seen as an insult, she was told, but mostly because there was something unsettling in the sounds he was making. He was clearly trying quite hard to suppress them, but he was struggling mightily.


He guided her gently, but firmly towards his workroom even though she could have picked it from the lineup due to the invisible miasma that was emanating from it. It was almost as if her body was rejecting the very notion of entering, but with Niko’s hand on her shoulder she made her way inside… and immediately regretted it.


The workroom was out of her worst nightmares. From the pentagram written in blood to the black candles and the oppressive darkness of the space, it was a scene from every scary story her sister had ever told her.


“I regret I do not see your walking stick sir, but I am afraid I must take my leave. I must at least appear to be studying when my master returns.” Amala said, but she had not turned to look at Crimsongaze yet. Her horrified gaze was glued to the massive gate, clearly not of this Side, opposite of the table full of dangerous instruments she had immediately spotted upon entering.


Amala had curled in on herself, and now had both hands clasped at her heart in an attempt to hide the uncontrollable tremors that had taken over her body the moment that door had close behind them. There was something final about the sound of a closing door, scary, and she knew then, as the whispering she thought she heard became a whispering she knew she heard, that the realization that she had to leave immediately struck her with such certainty that she almost tumbled to the ground her haste to tear her eyes away from the Gate.





“They shall all be back any moment, I think.”

 

[DrakeAlistair]

Location: Tower of High Sorcery: A Well-Shielded Workroom


Feeling: Hungry


Interacting With: @DancesWithVulcans

Nikomis Crimsongaze



​

Niko released the girl's shoulder as the door swung shut; there was no further reason to hold onto her, any longer. Though he supposed he would eventually need to restrain her, first he needed to prepare. He could taste her fear on his tongue, by now, and it brought a smirk curling across his thin lips. The magic swirling through his workroom was invigorating--almost as invigorating as the knowledge of the magic soon to come. He drew upon the last of the strength from his amulet, and his whole demeanor changed.




As she turned to look at him, clearly eager to leave now that she had seen what was inside the workroom, Niko stood up straighter. At his full height, he towered over the child; his breathing was calm and even and he held his own weight with ease. A glint of teeth flashed under his hood, and it wasn't the easy smile of a harmless and misunderstood mage.






"Oh, how silly of me,"

Niko spoke, and his voice no longer held the soft uncertainty of before. Though he spoke the same words as he might have previously, all pretense of affability was gone.

"It was with me, all along."




He held one hand out, grasping at the empty air and drawing forth a tall staff of ironwood, with a silver tip and a matching, unmarked head on the top. The butt of his staff hit the stone floor, and the sound echoed through the small room; Niko grasped it loosely, not resting any weight on it.






"Must you really be leaving so soon? I though we were getting on so well."

Niko didn't move from his position between the girl and the door, not that it would have mattered much if he had. Not even with every drop of magic in her tiny body could she budge the magical locks he had spelled the door with. She could try, if she wanted. It wasn't her magic he was after, anyway. It was her blood.




With a flick of his wrist, Niko lit the candles in the center of the room. They blazed with white fire, casting an eerie light throughout the room. The shadows cast on his face made him seem suddenly more angular, darker, and not quite human.






"I thought you might like to witness a bit of

real

magic... A magnificent spell that hasn't been cast for hundreds of years is about to come to life--and

you

will be the first to see it."

There was something hot and hungry behind his words now. A molten passion that scalded anyone who stood too close. He didn't add that it was going to be the last thing she witnessed. He left that to her imagination.

 

[DancesWithVulcans]

Dread was no longer adequate to describe the feeling pulsing through Amala’s veins. It was a fear the likes of which she had never known; ever muscle in her body was tense, rendering her unable to speak as Niko rose up like a serpent preparing to strike. He had shed his skin and transformed into the very monster that everyone had always claimed that he was, he hadn’t even spoken yet, and yet the girl knew she had been deceived and played with like a toy. Sky blue eyes desperately calculated the distance between herself and the door, trying to figure out just how quickly this new man would be able to reach her if and when she made a run for it.


Bt then, Crimsongaze spoke, and Amala’s tremors turned into a visible full body shake. Had she the ability to think in coherent thoughts besides Get Out Get Out Get Out, she would have been surprised that her teeth were not audibly clattering together. She huddled even tighter onto herself, her hands sliding up from her heart to clasp together at the base of her throat.


“Ah, I..” She began to speak, to say what, she was uncertain, but her words were cut off as the sound of Crimsongaze’s staff materializing and hitting the floor drew an involuntary scream from her lips. She ducked down as if she’d been hit, cowering under her hands as if they could protect her from the Darkness spiraling through the room. Then from behind her, the candles ignited and horrifying shadows erupted and began dancing across the room. Still covering and nearly on her knees, Amala risked a glance upwards at Nikomis and let out another, horrified scream at the effects the light had cast upon his sunken features.


Amala bolted for the door, her boots scraping against the tiles as she made a large angle around the creature disguised as a man and threw herself at the door. She clawed at the handle and violently attempted to tear it open, her attempts growing hysterical as the door refused to budge. In the back of her mind, she registered that he was still talking, but she had already burst into terrified tears.


“Odessa! Odessa, please! Odessa!!” As children, Amala’s cried had always brought her sister running. Older than her and far more rouged, Odessa had been her best friend and protector and had she had even fought when they had first arrived at S.C.M.E. to ensure they had the same mage master, even though Odessa was gifted with fire, not healing.


Amala pounded at the door, to frantic too feel the impact splitting open the thin skin of her knuckles.


“Essa! Essa!” She screamed for help, but nobody came.

 

[DrakeAlistair]

Location: Tower of High Sorcery: A Well-Shielded Workroom


Feeling: Hungry


Interacting With: @DancesWithVulcans

Nikomis Crimsongaze



​

When she darted around him and ran for the door, Niko didn't try to stop her. He didn't even both turning to watch as she wrenched pointlessly at the handle, screaming for help. Instead he took a few steps forward, crossing the circle of blood draw on the floor and moving to stand just over the candles. The flames didn't flicker, in spite of his approach and the sway of his robes; they stood tall and white, lighting him from below and throwing shadows all the way up to the top of his cheekbones.




Beneath his robes, the amulet was calling; the whispering had become a chant in words only he could understand. The magic was calling him, spurring him on. It had been a very long time since he had performed a human sacrifice--the thought sent his pulse quickening. Once it had been a normal part of his life, under Master Soulsteal. But for the past few years he had been grooming Lindzi, and had been careful not to do anything that might send her away. Now though... now he would taste the power of human life again and Lindzi would never know. Then again, if he released this child now and let her run and tell his apprentice what he had very nearly done... she would believe no one but him. He smirked and reached for his power.




The screaming was becoming distracting. He released his staff and it stood upright were it was; he reached for his power with both hands and gathered the shadows, wrapping them around the girl, restraining her. The darkness twined around each of her wrists and ankles separately, squeezing tight with no regard for her comfort. It would all be over for her, soon, anyway--what difference did a little discomfort make? Lastly, the shadows wrapped around her mouth, silencing her cries.






"Foolish child. No one is coming to save you,"

Niko sneered; he flicked a wrist and the shadow bindings lifted her off her feet and dragged her slowly across toward him. He held up a hand to stop her progress when she was face-to-face with him, then leaned ever so slightly closer.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you to keep away from Master Crimsongaze?"




Power was building for his spell; he formed a mold with his magic and poured power inside. The circle on the floor glowed, almost imperceptibly, as Niko reached under his robes to draw forth the amulet. Once free of his neck, the amulet's hunger sang through the room. Words of magi bubbled up from Niko's lips, rising in volume as he recited the words of the spell. The circle glowed brighter.




Niko thrust the amulet forward, touching it to the girl's bare neck; her pulse became its pulse, slowly, bit by bit, as it attuned with her lifeforce. When he could feel the bond stretched between her life and the waning spell inside the amulet, he withdrew it and lowered it into the void between the three candles. With another motion, he brought the girl to her knees, held steady by his magic so that her neck was directly above the amulet.




This spell was too commonplace for the obsidian dagger. Instead, Niko drew a small steel dagger from the sheath on his wrist. He stripped his gloves off and pushed his sleeves up, revealing lean, skeletal arms. One hand he placed on top of the girl's head, grasping her hair, though there was no way she could wiggle free of her bonds. The other hand bore the dagger, which he pressed against the far side of her neck, chanting all the while. His words had begun to merge with the words from the amulet; they grew to crescendo and with a final word he drew the blade across her throat.

 

[Quantum Leek]

Master Shivali "Demonsbane"


Battlemaster's Tent


There was silence for a time after Shivali's words. It was broken when Ser Shieldheart spoke.





"Well, how do we kill it?"


Predictable, thought Shivali, eyeing the man with distaste. "If anyone knew, it would be dead already. The best anyone has ever managed to do is kill the host. Unfortunately, that does only that--kills someone that was once human. It doesn't appear to harm the demon in any way. And before you ask, no, no one has ever found a way to save someone who had been possessed by Virgil."


Rigarius had a curious look in his eye, but Shivali didn't ask what he was thinking. The Battlemaster would keep his own council, she was certain--it was not her place to ask what he may or may not be planning. But eventually he spoke, apparently having composed whatever he was thinking into some sort of plan.


"Given access to our resources--and the Tower's resources--could you furnish us with more information on this demon?"


Shivali considered, thoughtful. "I suppose. The Tower has an extensive library, it would be beneficial to refresh my memory and..." she didn't finish her sentence. She didn't want to suggest that she might find something that others had missed, but that was exactly what she hoped. Maybe there was some hint of what he had been up to in the past three decades. Maybe not, but it was worth a try. She nodded, more decisive now. "I will give it my best."


"One more thing," Rigarius said, then paused with the air one one choosing his words very carefully. "We have been warned against this demon in particular. It stands to reason that he will make an appearance. As such... we will need some way to protect ourselves, should he make an appearance."


Shivali met the Battlemaster's gaze and knew what he was getting at without asking. She was one of the most well-renowned demon hunters in the country. Perhaps the most well-renowned. If anyone had a chance at finding some way to trap or destroy Virgil, it was her. Even finding a way to prevent him from passing into someone's mind would be an enormous help--or a way to detect the damn thing without looking in everyone's eyes. She nodded once, slowly, not breaking eye contact.


"Excellent. Ser Eycil, you have done well to bring this to our attention. Shivali--we appreciate any help you can give us."


The younger paladin saluted with relish and left. Shivali didn't. But she knew a dismissal when she heard one, and she turned to go, beckoning to her apprentice. Kysuo followed close behind, keeping on the opposite side from the paladins. For a brief moment, Shivali hesitated in the entrance of the tent, considering telling the Battlemaster about the calling her apprentice heard. She thought better of it; not now, not while the paladins were about--and preferably not before she had identified what it was. She turned and pushed the flap open, leaving the Battlemaster's council with her apprentice at her heel.

 

[DrakeAlistair]

Location: Tower of High Sorcery: A Well-Shielded Workroom


Feeling: Invigorated


Interacting With:

Nikomis Crimsongaze



​

Hot, red blood spilled over Niko's hands, showering the floor at his feet and pouring onto the amulet. The girl stopped struggling. Niko released her head, standing upright and feeling the power surge through the room. It poured from her throat into the spell, feeding the hungry amulet. He felt the ancient spell flare to life, more alive than it had ever been since he had retrieved it.




And he loved it.




Blood dripped from his fingers, from the blade of his knife, leaving a small pattern of drip marks near his right boot. He paid it no heed, instead throwing his head back and breathing in the power. The scent of blood was intoxicating--the sharp, coppery scent filled his nose and mouth. He had nearly forgotten what it felt like to hold someone's life in his hands and transform it into pure, raw power. It was the most exhilarating experience.




When the soft pattering of blood stopped Niko waved his left hand and tossed the lifeless child aside. Her body slumped against the wall in the corner of the workroom. He dissolved the spell that had held her in place and spent not a single thought more on her. His eyes fell on the amulet, at the center of the three candles in a pool of fresh, warm blood. It pulsed with power.




It called to him.




He slid the bloodied knife back into its sheath and reached out, wrapping his fingers around the pendant. A shock of power shot up his arm and he gasped in surprise but didn't release the amulet as he stood. A second pulse reverberated through his body, then a third and a fourth. He could feel her heartbeat, filling it up, giving life to the spell--giving life to him--and he reached out with his magic to touch it, to tap into it. The bridge formed as if it had always meant to be, and life surged into him.




Niko let out another gasp; he had expected

power

from the renewed spell, but this was more than he had ever hoped for. It filled him up, nearly overflowing--he felt energized and more, like he had never experienced before. It was akin to a drug--a stimulant--but instead of increasing the

feeling

of energy in his brain, it increased the pool of energy for him to draw from. And it felt magnificent.




So thrilled was he, that Niko nearly slipped the amulet over his neck and left the room as he was. Fortunately, he remembered that some cleanup was in order, first. Only after he had wiped off the amulet, its chain, and his hands, did he roll down his sleeves, replace his hood, and slip silently out of the room with his staff in hand.

 

[DancesWithVulcans]

The Apprentice Lindzi

​

Where: Tower of High Sorcery: Quietly having a panic attack behind the Battlemaster's Tent

How: Panicking/ Determined


Who: @Quantum Leek

Kill it?!


Lavender eyes turned skyward in an accusatory glare. Why were the Gods punishing her like this? What could she possibly have done to have to deal with these people plotting against her mage master whilst also figuring out how to survive a demon army?! The woman spoke the very thing Lindzi was thinking, attempting to kill the host, Niko, would only kill Niko. Not Virgil.


A small voice in her head was outraged at the thought that someone could imagine it would be easy to kill Niko. It scoffed, they would have to go through her first. Then, they’d have to deal with Niko himself, and he was even fiercer than he appeared. Good luck with that.


Everything else in her was panicking at the realization that there was now a group, a group, not just one person, plotting against her mage master, even if they did not know who he was. Niko would surely become a suspect the moment they saw him and especially if they began asking around. His reputation was well known, he was SCME’s very own boogeyman after all, and several of the rumors circulating about him ticked the boxes they described earlier. Won’t look anyone in the eye, looking into his eyes causes death, rumors of murdering apprentices… while some of them were unfortunately true, many were clearly false, but these Paladins and their demon hunter wouldn’t care enough to tell the difference.


Lindzi stood on uneasy legs, both from too long spent crouching and from the conflicting emotions racing through her.


The Battlemaster’s final words to his apparent huntsman, Shivali, echoed ominously in her mind. Virgil was surely to make an appearance…. Lindzi desperately prayed that wouldn’t be the case. But what to do? What could even be done? She pressed her hand firmly against her heart and eased around the edge of the Battlemaster’s tent to peek out quickly as Shivali left the tent. A boy… not completely human, she sensed, followed close behind her. An apprentice and his mage master, then. She ducked back once she was satisfied that she got a good enough look and began to weave her way through the maze of tents. Best not to linger in case she get caught eavesdropping, again.


But did this mean that the Battlemaster was unaware that Niko was the one harboring Virgil? She had thought that they had known each other better than that. Lost in thought and visibly distressed, the pixie wandered aimlessly with her eyes fixed on the ground beneath her, she avoid collisions with others solely because they were activity avoiding her.


Should she tell Niko or not? Her indecision stemmed from the fact that she couldn’t predict his reaction to the news; would be angry? What would he do? Would he retaliate or confront the Battlemaster? Lindzi worried her lip but let out a squeak when her tooth sank in deep enough to draw blood. Frustrated, she dabbed at it lightly with her finger and slid her eyes from the earth up towards the Tower.


All at once, inspiration struck and she launched herself into the air. The woman, Shivali, she reminded herself, thought that there might be valuable information on Virgil in the library. All Lindzi had to do was find it first.


Aided by the gift of flight, Lindzi made it to the library in record time, soaring past startled soldiers and delighted young apprentices on her way. She was usually a touch more showy when she flew, employing flips and curves in her trajectories, but this time they were simply impressed by the speed with which she sliced through the sky. There was no time to waste after all.


The library itself was indeed massive, so massive that she was unsure of where to even begin her search. She had arrived on what she assumed was a floor slightly in the middle of the library and made her way past an abandoned desk, covered in, upon closer investigation, what appeared to be books on white magic.





Wrong floor!


With a look that was almost a sneer she turned and made her way down the spiraling staircase to a lower level. Assuming that since dark mages usually preferred dark places, their books would be located on the lower, darker floors of the library. Here, the light was provided by an alarming abundance of candles, all of which glowed with a light far bright than one would expect a normal candle to throw, but that gave the ceiling a feeling of being lower than truly was. Her growing sense of claustrophobia was not helping her to calm down in the slightest, as she was still unsettled by what she had overheard earlier. Her heart was still thundering against her ribcage and seemed to beat even fast every moment. Soon enough, she reasoned, that woman was going to come clambering down the stairs and try to find a way to “protect” them all from Virgil. A noble task, no doubt, and one that she would have happily helped with if she didn’t have the overwhelming feeling that it was somehow going to cost her mage master his life.


In the classic Lindzi way of choosing study books, she plucked an assortment of tomes that had dark covers and the magi for ‘demon’ scrawled across the cover and retreated with a few steps into the air to the dusty top of a bookshelf.